Black Cloud
by sej1986
Summary: Sequel to Mutual Purposes. Langley are working to shut down CTU... or are they?
1. Prologue

_**Black Cloud- Prologue**_

Bill Buchanan had known that the day was going to be far from easy.

As Director of Operations at the Counter Terrorist Unit, Los Angeles, he liked to think he'd developed a sense for danger; there were times he could almost see a shadow descending slowly from the heavens to settle stubbornly above the uniform grey building. He had seen glimpses of said shadow lurking conspicuously over the past few weeks. At first he hadn't been sure, but a fax from Division soon confirmed his worst suspicions.

The group was working out of Boston, supposedly plotting to shut down the entire American intelligence community, starting with CTU. Why they had chosen to go about it in such a way remained anyone's guess, but the higher ups at Langley had been breathing down the necks of every unit Director since the alert was issued.

Seating himself at his desk, Bill could remember his exact words in response to the threat. That hadn't been a good day, either, but for other, more personal reasons. One of his team, indeed one of the best the agency had ever seen, had chosen that day to hand in their resignation. The fax from Division had been the last thing Bill had needed, and had only served to aggravate his ever present headache.

The letter sat before him now, demanding to be read even though by now he knew the contents off by heart. He just couldn't bring himself to file it away, or forward it, or accept it. Oh, he'd _accepted _it. In the physical sense at least. He just wouldn't, couldn't, believe it. Placing a folder on top of it, Bill began typing at his computer, logging in through the various security screens until he reached his desktop.

The hourlies blinked up at him, demanding to be read. Normally he allowed them his customary skim read but now he would have to be more thorough. Agencies were working together closer than they had ever needed to before in their short history; there was no room for complacency now that they themselves were the ones under threat. Reading through them, Bill saw little of interest and was about to file them away when something towards the bottom of the screen caught his eye, just as his desk phone started to ring.

"Buchanan." He spoke crisply, instinctively splitting his attention between the two tasks, continuing to read as a voice in his ear asked him would he please hold for Hal Turner. Bill scowled; he'd met the Boston Director once and that had been enough to form a lasting, if distasteful, impression of the other man. While he waited, he found what he was looking for and enlarged it so that it filled the whole screen. His eyes widened in a mixture of shock, anger and complete confusion.

"Bill, this is Hal Turner," came the unmistakable nasal tones, cutting through Buchanan's thoughts. "I'm sorry to trouble you, what with the threat you guys have just received... anyway," he said hastily, sensing that the older man was not in the mood for digression, "I trust you've read the latest inter-agency hourlies?"

"I have and I'm not at all happy, I can assure you. Who cleared this?"

"Langley." Turner spoke the word with some trepidation; it was enough to put a stop to any argument forming in Buchanan's mind. He sagged in his chair, grateful for the privacy of his office. "Damn it," he muttered. "Where do they get off on this sort of thing?"

He could almost hear Hal shrug. "Search me. They want it done as soon as possible, preferably yesterday. You know what they're like," he added unnecessarily. "I'm as happy about it as you are." The comment did not fill Buchanan with much hope; sighing, he thanked Hal and brought the call to and end, his mind already working on the next stage of the process.

Pushing himself into a standing position, he walked over to the window and glanced down at the floor. He could see various agents busy at their stations; the sight calmed him somewhat, reminded him that, here at least, he was the one in control.

He switched his sights to the office across from his, that of his head of field ops. The light was off, the younger man having not yet arrived for the day. Bill knew that he too occasionally stood by the window, albeit for a different reason entirely. The Director took a moment to sweep his gaze once more across the bullpen, nodding as he saw that, for the time being at least, everything was as it should be.


	2. Chapter 1

_**Black Cloud- Chapter One**_

The sun rose slowly, gently filtering rays of milky yellow light through the partially drawn curtains. Outside, the world was waking up, ready to face whatever this particular day had to throw at them. It was going to be warm; the end of summer in Los Angeles attracted more than just over-excited tourists. There probably wouldn't be a cloud in the sky for miles, or at least as far as the eye could see. It was not a day anyone relished spending cooped up in a stuffy, albeit air conditioned, Government building.

He'd been awake for a good few hours, wanting to get in a morning jog before the sun became too relentless. He stood now by the side of the bed, watching her sleep, noting with a smile how the sheet was draped lightly across her body. She was lying on her front; her preferred method of sleeping, he now knew, and the sheet was gently skimming the skin above her hips. Her dark hair was an unruly tangle around her face, obscuring his view. He loved watching her, loved how every morning he discovered something new that he would file away in his mind, to be thought about during those long office hours.

Already dressed and ready to leave for work, he knew she wouldn't be too far behind him. She was never one to linger when in a rush, yet she never seemed to _be _in a rush. Having ten minutes to shower and dress didn't phase her at all, and she would only smile sweetly whenever he pointed out the time.

He sat down carefully beside her sleeping form and placed a hand on her bare back. She wriggled, muttered something unintelligible. He began tracing circles on her skin, his smile broadening as she slowly opened her eyes and blinked up at him. "Morning, sweetheart," he greeted, his fingers still dancing across her back. She scowled, blowing her hair out of her eyes and cursing as it fell back exactly as it had been. Hearing him laugh, she reached round and grabbed his wrist. "You were saying?" she challenged. He dipped his head, knowing when he was beaten. "That's more like it." Releasing him, she gathered the sheet around her with both hands and shifted onto her back. Leaning in, he captured her lips with his own, brushing the hair from her face as he did so. "I love you," he whispered, feeling her smile against him. "I can tell," she teased as he brought his body flush against hers. "I love you, too."

xxx

"You want me to do that?"

Tony glanced up, narrowly missing a kick in the eye. "No, I think I've just about got it covered," he called back, mock glaring at the baby as she aimed another tiny foot in his direction. She squealed, clearly enjoying her game. Tony gently grabbed hold of both her feet and began tickling them. "Oh, really?" he asked, his eyebrow raised. "Is this how you want to play, huh?"

"What are you two doing in there?" Footsteps entered the room and Tony stopped, sharing a conspiratorial glance with his daughter. Turning round, he kissed his wife on the cheek. "We're just having a little meeting, setting some ground rules."

Michelle smiled. "Is that so?" She walked over to the baby changing table. "I see you've managed to get her diaper on without any problems," she noted, eyeing with amusement the array of baby clothes resting just beside her daughter. "I think the next stage would be dressing her," she advised, winking at the baby. Grace grinned, evidently pleased at having broken her vow of secrecy. "She's got you wrapped around her little finger," Michelle smiled, stepping into Tony's embrace and resting her head on his shoulder. "Which is just how I want it," he assured her.

"Maddie will be here in a minute," she went on, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Are you driving this morning or am I?"

Tony glanced at Grace. "What do you think?"

Grace wriggled, waving her arms and pointing, settling finally on her mother. Michelle beamed. "I guess that settles it."

"I guess it does."

xxx

Curtis drained his coffee mug and set about refilling it. The morning paper had just arrived; he was in the middle of reading a particularly interesting article when a slight breeze interrupted him, causing the pages of the newspaper to flick forward. "Stupid thing," he muttered, placing his mug back down on the side and stooping to lift the fallen pages. A headline caught his eye and he froze momentarily, remembering. Shaking his head, he straightened, his earlier interest now lost. Pushing the paper to one side he quickly topped up his coffee, sipping slowly as he moved from the kitchen to the study.

His bag was on the table, his cell phone, pager, PDA and car keys assembled beside it. The television was on; glancing at it briefly Curtis saw that it was going to be another warm day. The weather forecaster was threatening a storm; looking out of the window Curtis decided that the guy had probably lost it. "No storm today," he mused. Already, the kids across the street were out playing with the hosepipe. "They should put a ban on that damn thing," he muttered, as an innocent passerby was sprayed from head to toe with what was probably freezing cold water.

Five minutes later he was switching the television off, grabbing up his bag and stuffing various things into it. His car keys he kept firmly in his hand. The half drunk mug of coffee tipped down the sink, he made sure everything was shut off and locked. He debated about taking his jacket, deciding against it as he remembered he'd already left one draped across the back of his chair at work as it was. If the air con became too much, he could just use that instead. No sense in taking another. Nodding to himself, Curtis cast a final glance around the lower level of the house before opening the front door and stepping out into the morning sunshine.

xxx

"Mr. Buchanan, you want the new protocols sent to your system or shall I just leave them for Chloe to look through when she gets here?"

Bill looked over at the comm. unit, frowning at the mess his second lead analyst had managed to make of the desk. He quickly checked his watch before replying. "Send them straight up to me, would you? I need Chloe on something else the second she gets here." He started for the stairs, pausing only to glance back over his shoulder and offer some advice. "Oh, and Milo? I suggest you clear up those... food cartons, before she arrives."

"You got it," Milo sighed, hitting the enter key on his keyboard and pushing back his chair. He noted with dismay that tomato sauce had leaked onto the mousemat. Cursing, he glanced around wildly for a tissue, and then gathered the offending evidence into his arms. It was a short walk to the trash can. There was one right beside Chloe's station but he wasn't stupid, he knew she'd figure out that he'd brought his breakfast to work yet again. She'd already yelled at him for it twice that week.

Returning to the comm. unit, he booted up his own PC, logging out of the main system but leaving it on standby as was his usual practice. She was due to walk through the doors in fifteen minutes. It wasn't his fault he started an hour earlier than her most days; a guy got hungry and Bill wasn't exactly forthcoming with letting his staff wander across the road to the diner whenever they felt like it. Typing in his clearance code, Milo pulled up a chair and got comfortable. Something told him it was going to be a long day. It had looked harmless enough, as he'd parked up and flashed his badge to the guy on security. Even the coffee tasted half decent. But he'd worked for CTU before. He remembered a day, years ago now, when something bad had happened. He was starting to get the same sort of uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, and it had nothing to do with the second smear of sauce he'd just seen, this one on the screen itself.

xxx

"Traffic looks good this morning," Jack noted, backing out of the drive. Chloe merely scowled. "You're not going to talk to me all day now, are you?"

"Jack, we ran out of coffee. You know I'm no good without coffee and now I'm going to have to drink the stuff out of the break room..." She visibly shuddered. "Unless, you could stop on the way and I could grab something?" He suppressed a smile. "Of course, sweetheart."

"Plus, we're already sort of late," she went on, half heartedly examining her nails.

"You never mind about being late," Jack reminded her, stopping at a red light. "And... I don't seem to remember you complaining," he added, his tone suggestive.

"That's because I wasn't complaining," Chloe huffed.

"No. No, you most definitely weren't." He grinned and she felt herself flush. "Just get me a coffee," she muttered.

He took a left and pulled up outside the diner just across from CTU. Chloe was gone five minutes, returning with two extra strong black coffees, no sugar, no milk. She drank them both; he didn't even bother asking if one was for him. Watching her swallow the final mouthful, he took the empty cups from her hands and left the car to toss them in the trash. "I'm sorry," she murmured as he slid in behind the wheel once more. He frowned. "What for?"

"For being me... for taking your head off about the whole coffee thing..." Chloe shrugged. "I do love you, you know that, right? Just sometimes, I just..."

"It's okay," he whispered, blinking slowly. "I know you love me. I never doubt that. You just love coffee more."

She hit him lightly on the arm. "Never."

"It's okay, Clo, I can take it."

"Jack, will you quit messing around? I'm trying to... I just sometimes feel like you'll get sick of me, and my bad moods." She looked away from him and across the street, to where the opening for CTU's underground parking lot gaped ominously back at her. Jack followed her gaze, placed a hand on her arm. She turned back and managed a small smile. Her eyes met his and he tugged her into his arms as best he could. When she pulled away both had tears in their eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, not entirely sure that the time was right, when she interrupted him. "Come on. Let's go." Shaking his head as though to clear it, Jack put the car in gear and indicated towards the parking lot, the daylight slowly receding behind them.

xxx

"Do you think he's told her yet?"

"Honey, this is Jack we're talking about." Tony slammed the car door shut, making sure his badge and gun were where they should be. "Even you aren't meant to know so the chances of him having told Chloe are pretty small."

Michelle smiled wryly. "Yeah, I guess you're right. You wouldn't mind, would you, if he...?"

"Mind?"

"Yeah, I mean, he wouldn't be about much."

"You know, I thought about it," he told her as they walked towards the elevator. "When you were pregnant, and then after, when Grace was tiny. But this job... it's what we do, Michelle. It is what it is and sometimes I wish to God I hadn't filled out the application but really..." They stepped aside as the elevator door slid open and a group of people walked out of it. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, no, I wouldn't mind."

Michelle was silent as they rode the elevator up to the main security desk. "I wanted to come back, after I had Grace," she admitted, squeezing his hand. "I'm so glad Bill agreed to take me on reduced hours."

"If you weren't here it would make the job a hell of a lot less bearable," Tony said softly.

They shared a small smile. "Well, don't worry, I'm not going anywhere," Michelle replied, following him out of the elevator and across to security. "Nor am I," Tony murmured, his badge ready for inspection.

"Hey, guys!"

Michelle turned to see Curtis striding quickly towards them. "Hey, Curtis," she greeted, waiting while she was cleared and then standing aside for Curtis. Tony grinned at his friend. "Hey. Looks like a nice day out there, doesn't it?"

"You should never say anything like that, not when you work in this job," muttered the security guy, passing Curtis's badge back towards him. "Surely you guys should know that by now?" Michelle laughed politely, but couldn't shake the feeling that he perhaps had a point. "Jack just pulled into the parking lot, so I guess everyone's here," Curtis was saying. Michelle glanced at her husband, who shook his head. "Milo had seriously better not have made a mess of the comm. unit," Curtis went on. "Did you see it Monday morning? It looked like something out of a horror movie."

"Milo's never going to change," Tony sighed. They paused outside the locker rooms. "See you in a sec," he told Michelle, holding the door for Curtis as they stepped inside. They found Jack sat in one of the small chairs littered around the room, tying his shoes. Curtis stared at him incredulously. "How did you...? I just saw you pull into the parking lot!" Jack's eyes met Tony's and they both smirked. "Don't worry," Jack told his friend, getting to his feet. Curtis muttered something to himself and began opening his locker. "You okay?" Tony asked, watching as Jack slammed his locker shut and leaned against the wall to wait. His question held a deeper meaning, something that Jack picked up on immediately. "Yeah, everything's fine."

"You haven't told her yet, have you?"

Jack waited until Curtis had discarded his bag and gone before answering. "I almost did, this morning, but then... I keep waiting for the right time, and I'm worried that there isn't going to _be _a right time." He shrugged. "I'll sort it, Tony."

"You're scared as to what she'll think."

"Yes."

Tony shook his head. "You know her, Jack. Better than I do. I can't tell you what she'll think but I'll tell you what I think. I think you deserve this, and if it's what you want to do then do it."

xxx

The temperature in the bullpen was already somewhere below freezing. "Buchanan's been on at the air con company to send someone out to fix it," Milo complained as Chloe took her seat beside him. "I don't get it. It's as hot as hell outside and as cold as-"

"As cold as hell inside?" Tony offered.

Milo shrugged. "Yeah, something like that." He risked a look at Chloe. "Thanks for tidying up before I got here," she said sarcastically. Milo's eye's widened and he glanced helplessly at Tony, who laughed. "She has got a point," he mused, pointing to the one carton of chips Milo had forgotten to bin before the rest of the team arrived. Cursing, he snatched it up. "Buchanan told me to send the protocols straight to him, he wants you on something else," he called from the now over flowing trash can. "He didn't say what," he continued before Chloe could ask.

Across the floor, Bill appeared at the foot of the stairs. The bullpen fell silent. "Good morning, everyone. I'd like to see all department heads in my office immediately. The rest of you, start prioritising your tasks for today."

Chloe got once more to her feet. The Director's tone had unnerved her, as had the look on his face. She saw Curtis leave his station. Being the closest to the stairs, he reached the office first. Up above, she saw Jack leaving his own office and walk quickly across the hall. Chloe fell in line with Tony and Michelle, stepping immediately to Jack's side the moment she set foot in Bill's office. She couldn't help but recall the last time they had all been called together at such short notice. The only thing that was different was the fact that Michelle was now with them. As assistant IT lead, she was classed as a department head, despite only working three days a week. Trudi, the regular lead, was off sick, hence the reason Michelle had been working overtime the last couple of weeks.

Bill closed the door. The five of them waited while he walked back over to his desk and typed into the computer. "As you all know," he said finally, wearily, "there has been a threat levelled at the entire American intelligence community." Solemn nods met his statement, and he closed his eyes briefly. "Only last week was the threat extended to us, here in Los Angeles. The group is starting with CTU, however it was previously thought that the attack would be primarily aimed at the east coast." He paused. "New intel gathered in Boston has led them to believe that we too are at risk. Los Angeles, as well as Boston, has been cited as a main target."

"Working from the outside in," Tony muttered.

"Quite," Bill agreed. "Why these two cities have been specifically chosen has not yet been established but it is vital that we work together with Boston to find out sooner, rather than later."

"We've been working with them already," Michelle spoke up. Bill smiled tiredly. "Yes, I know, and I appreciate that. But... something else has been suggested, something that will, apparently, make stopping this group a lot easier."

"You don't sound too convinced," Jack noted. "And nothing's easy in this job, Bill."

"Whether or not I am convinced has nothing to do with it. It's been cleared by Langley, so it's final. I have no say in the matter." He moved into the centre of the room and met the eyes of each of his team, lingering longer on Jack than the rest of them. "This is what's going to happen," he said finally, at the same moment a rumble of thunder sounded overhead and rain began pounding persistently on the roof.


	3. Chapter 2

_**Black Cloud- Chapter Two**_

No one commented on the sound of the rain now drumming steadily on the roof above them. Although the weather wasn't entirely unexpected, it had cast a shadow over what had looked to be a promising day, and only served to add further weight to the words Buchanan was about to speak. Momentarily thrown, he now opened his mouth to continue when persistent knocking on his office door brought yet another interruption. Cursing softly, he strode towards the door and threw it open forcefully. "Milo, we're in the middle of something here. Can it wait?"

"I'm sorry Mr. Buchanan, sir, but no, it can't. May I?" He indicated for Buchanan to step outside. Smiling apologetically at his department heads, Bill stepped out into the upper hallway and regarded Milo sternly. "Well?"

"Sir, I've just had Hal Turner on the phone, from Boston? Okay, well, he said he needed to speak to you but I eventually got him to talk to me and he said they've just had their alert status raised by Langley. They're now on a code red."

"Damn it," Bill muttered softly, closing his eyes.

"He said to assume that Langley will be contacting us shortly, to verify that we're also being elevated to code red."

"Yes, they will."

Milo lowered his voice. "Sir? What exactly is going on? They think we're a high probability target, don't they? We're the only two agencies that have been elevated," he went on, "so it's the only thing I can think of that makes sense. I'm sorry, Mr. Buchanan, I know it's probably classified intel but..." He trailed off, thinking that he may have overstepped his mark. Sensing this, Bill placed a hand on his arm. "It's okay, Milo. I will be making an announcement to the whole floor but right now I need to finish talking to the department heads. Please keep this to yourself until then."

"Sure." Frowning, Milo cast a quick look through the glass walls of the office before taking the stairs slowly back down to the floor, evidently lost in thought.

Bill took a moment before re-entering the room. Through the glass, his eyes met Jack's. Steeling himself, Bill pushed open the door and resumed his spot before his team. "Langley have just elevated Boston to a code red."

"Which means we won't be far behind," Jack commented.

"I've already told Milo to assume that we're operating on an elevated status," Bill confirmed. "I'll be making an announcement shortly." He paused. "This of course makes what I am about to tell you all the more important and it is vital that we take action immediately." Another pause, this time to gather himself. "Three of you have been chosen to go to Boston as part of a temporary inter-agency transfer. In turn, Boston will be sending us two of their best agents."

"Why?" Jack's question was abrupt. "We've always co-operated in the past via teleconference and phone calls. Why have they decided this now?"

"Like I said, Jack, I don't agree with this-"

"Then tell them no. We need all agents, all department heads, here."

Buchanan's tone darkened. "This has been cleared by Langley. I have no authority over their decision."

"Who have they chosen?" Curtis asked cautiously, not missing the pointed look that passed between the two men. Bill turned, refocussed his attention before responding. "Each of you has been hand picked, by Langley, and will need to be ready to leave by ten o clock this evening unless you can give me a valid reason why you cannot go, which will need to be on my desk by one at the latest."

Jack grasped hold of Chloe's hand; instinctively she moved closer to him as they waited for Bill to continue.

"Curtis, Tony, as lead tactical you have both been chosen because of your experience in many areas of the job."

Chloe felt Jack's hand tighten around hers. "_Both _of us?" Tony protested. "For God's sakes, Bill, we can't just go flying agents across the country."

"I agree," Jack muttered coldly.

"Then I suggest the pair of you take it up with Langley when all this is over, if there's anything left of it," Bill shot back, his anger clear.

"Go on, Bill," Michelle offered, her eyes flicking warily between Jack and Tony.

The atmosphere in the office now tense, Chloe took a step back as Buchanan's gaze rested on her. Beside her, she heard Jack voicing his objections. His earlier anger was gone, replaced by an undercurrent of fear that Chloe could feel flowing through him and into her at an alarming rate.

"...suggest you all take some time to think about it..."

One by one the rest of the team filed out of the room. Chloe was vaguely aware that Bill and Jack were arguing; wordlessly, she extricated her hand from Jack's and moved towards the door, desperate for some space in which to think about her decision. She was halfway down the stairs when Jack rushed after her, taking hold of her hand once more and pulling her into his office.

"Do you want to do this?" he asked softly, not bothering to wipe away the tears that were sliding down his cheeks. "Do you want to go?"

She shrugged. "I don't know, Jack, I mean... I guess I do, because we don't really have a choice."

"I'll go instead of you."

Smiling sadly, she took his hand and led him over to the couch running the length of one wall of the office. "I don't think Mr. Buchanan will let you. I don't need you to go instead of me, Jack," she went on, meeting his gaze, using her eyes to get across what she was trying to tell him. He nodded, swallowing hard against a lump in his throat. "I- I can't..." he started to say, but Chloe pressed a finger to his lips. He shifted so that he was all but lying beside her, resting his head on her knees. Chloe began running her fingers through his short hair, not needing to use words to convey the comfort she was trying to give him. He was tense; she knew he was fighting to keep his emotions under control. Her hands drifted to his shoulders, gently massaging the knotted muscles she felt beneath his skin. He turned into her touch, moving so that he was looking up at her, his blue eyes shining. Chloe dipped her head and he rose to meet her halfway, their lips barely brushing against each other. With both hands he pulled her closer, kissing her deeply, his tongue sliding into her mouth, her arms snaking around his waist as he sat up and held her protectively against him.

xxx

"Honey, say something," Tony urged. He and Michelle were sitting in the break room. The expression on his wife's face was blank, her eyes unreadable. Finally, she looked up from the coffee she hadn't touched and attempted a smile. "What were we saying this morning? About always being here?" She laughed resignedly. "I guess we really did speak too soon."

"Oh, honey-"

She held up a hand. "No, Tony. Don't tell me you won't go. I don't want that."

"What then?" he asked desperately, his mind flicking to his baby daughter, oblivious to the news that had just befallen her parents. He buried his face in his hands and sighed. "It just doesn't seem right, does it? Langley asking for both lead tactical to fly out across the country at a moment's notice. _Both _of us," he repeated incredulously, more to himself than to Michelle. "I don't think they made a mistake," she murmured. "Think about it. Jack is second in command. Trudi's sick. I'm on reduced hours. Bill can't go so that naturally leaves the three of you."

He felt slightly, but not fully, calmed by her reasoning. "I want to know who they are sending here," he said. "I don't want some second rate agents replacing us."

"They'll send the best they have, just as we're sending our best."

"I wish you wouldn't keep trying to calm me down," he muttered, a hint of a smile on his face.

"Someone has to," she retorted. "Besides," she went on, her tone serious once more, "you don't have a vaild reason for staying."

"I don't do I?"

She shook her head. "Do _you _want to go?"

There was a moment before Tony replied. He pushed his chair back and stood up. She did the same and he took her in his arms. "I want to do my job," he admitted eventually. "That's what I thought," she told him. "So go do it."

"I love you," he whispered, kissing her tenderly.

xxx

Buchanan walked quickly towards the comm. unit. Milo was on the phone once more, arguing with someone who was no doubt from Langley. "No, he's in a meeting right now. I can take a mes- oh, hold on, here he is." He covered the mouth piece as he spotted the Director making his way over to him. "Some jerk from Langley, sir," he muttered, passing the receiver across. Bill suppressed a smile. "This is Bill Buchanan..."

Thirty seconds later he was passing the phone back to Milo and making his way to the foot of the stairs. All department heads were still absent from their stations, their attention focussed on the decision he had forced them to make. Clearing his throat, he called for attention.

"As of now, we are operating on a code red." He paused, but his staff knew better than to start whispering amongst themselves. "As you all know, we are dealing with a group operating out of Boston, a group with the aim of crippling, and then destroying, the entire intelligence community in this country. I do not need to tell you how serious this is. Anyone who thinks they cannot deal with it must leave now; we will not have time for doubts as this progresses, and I need every able bodied person on board. We as an agency have been labelled a high probability target; it is thought that we will bear the force of the primary attacks this group will launch. All new intel must be filtered and processed immediately. I realise that while so far we have very limited information, this could change at any time. I want all available personnel on this, and there is to be no, I repeat _no _contact with friends or family during this time."

"Mr. Buchanan? How long is this going on for, exactly?"

Bill took a deep breath. "It is, as I have already informed the department heads, an indefinite process." He scanned the room, could see the fear and determination etched onto every face staring back at him. No one was going anywhere. He had their full support. "That will be all for now," he concluded, and turned to head back up to his office when he spotted Curtis striding towards him. He didn't speak, simply followed the Director back up the stairs and into the office. "Bill, I've made my decision," he announced quietly, taking the seat offered to him. Bill felt a mixture of both relief and apprehension wash over him. "Go on," he encouraged, taking another deep breath to help steady his nerves.

"I'll go," Curtis said, his eyes meeting Buchanan's. "I've got no reason to stay, and as I have been picked I feel it's my duty to go. I'm not happy about it," he added, determined to get his point across, "and I agree with Jack and Tony in that it seems entirely unnecessary, however I appreciate that your authority has been restricted. I will go because it is felt that it may be of genuine help to this threat, and we won't know unless we try."

Bill reached out and shook the younger man's hand. "Thank you, Curtis. This won't go unnoticed."

Curtis shrugged. "I'm not doing it to get a promotion."

"I know you're not, and that makes it all the more admirable," Bill assured him. "I haven't heard back from Tony and Chloe yet."

"I guess they have more ties than I do," Curtis mused. "It's a much harder decision for them than for me in that respect." He frowned. "What will happen if they come back and refuse to go?"

The Director sighed heavily, looked at his watch. He'd only arrived for work three hours earlier; he felt as though he'd been there all week. "I don't know, Curtis. If they have valid reasons, then... well, we'll just have to wait and see."

xxx

They didn't move for what seemed like a long time; Jack's arms tightly around her, her head on his shoulder. She could hear his heart beating, could hear him struggle to return his breathing to normal. Even with her murmured words of reassurance in his ear she knew he was still unsure, still shaken by the news that they were to be taken from each other for the first time in their two year relationship. In her mind, she had made her decision; he knew this, and she knew he knew. It was the same decision he himself would have made, but it didn't make it any easier.

The times he'd tried to speak she had shaken her head, knowing already what he was going to say. She wondered if Tony and Michelle were having a similar conversation in another area of the building, and how Michelle was dealing with it. Curtis would more than likely decide to go; it was no secret that Division was looking to promote him, to train him up to replace Jack as second in command when Buchanan stood down in a couple of years. While Curtis was not openly looking to advance his career, of the three chosen he was the one with the least personal responsibility, least family ties.

Jack stirred. Chloe lifted her head and looked up into his eyes, responding immediately to his soft kiss. There were times she wished she knew the words to say to fill the gaps; other times she was happy to settle for the bond they were now sharing, an unspoken communication that no other could understand. It saved a lot of awkwardness, on her part at least. "Bill's waiting," he said quietly, and she heard the catch in his voice. "We should... I mean, you should-"

"Come with me?" she asked, even though there had never been any question of it. "Yes," he responded. The anger _was _still there, although masked heavily by the lump in his throat. As she got to her feet he pulled her roughly towards him, placing a brusing kiss on her already swollen lips. "I love you. I love you so much, and I won't stop you from doing this."

It was what he'd been trying to tell her all along. She sensed that he'd needed to say it, despite the fact that the words failed to convey with the same strength the message his eyes were giving her. "I love you, too," she managed, her own voice choked. She threaded her fingers through his and together they crossed the hallway, meeting Tony and Michelle ascending the stairs. Chloe noticed that they too were hand in hand; she sought Michelle's eyes and found the same sadness that she herself was feeling. Pushing open the door, Jack led them into Buchanan's office, not surprised to see Curtis already waiting for them within. Both he and Bill stood as they entered.

The atmosphere was sombre. Bill did not prod them for their answers. It was Chloe who spoke first; she remained standing, her hand firmly entwined with Jack's. "I'll go," she said, her tone firm, defensive. "But I want to know something. I want to know who is being sent to replace us."

Bill looked towards Jack, who met his gaze unflinchingly. "Tell us," he demanded. "It's the least we deserve to know."

"First I need Tony's answer," he responded calmly, aware that the field agent's temper was close to boiling point and that once tipped, there would be little anyone in the room could do to stop it. Tony knew this too. He stepped forward. He and Jack shared a look; the briefest of nods passed between them and Jack looked away. "I'm in," Tony said finally, releasing Michelle's hand and wrapping an arm around her, pulling her close.

"Thank you." He rose, shook first Tony's and then Curtis's hand, before placing a quick kiss on Chloe's cheek. The analyst froze, unaccustomed to such an intimate gesture, and placed an impassive look on her face. "Okay," Bill went on, moving back to the desk and holding up two files. "These are the agents coming in from Boston. They are due to arrive some point this afternoon." He passed one file to Jack, the other to Curtis, who received them silently. "We get to meet these guys?" Tony asked, the wariness in his tone having dropped a notch.

"Not guys. Women," Curtis told him, flicking through the last pages of the file with interest.

"Yes," Bill agreed. "Agents Amanda Amos and Maria Silver. Lead analyst and lead tactical, respectively."

"People who know what they are doing," Jack mused. "Not second rate agents," Michelle chimed in, with a sideways glance at her husband. Tony rolled his eyes. "We just wanted to be careful," he told Bill, who nodded. "Absolutely. And I would have told you; there was nothing to say you couldn't know."

A few moments passed. Jack closed the file and passed it to Tony. "I'm still not sure, Bill," he muttered.

Buchanan took a deep breath. "I don't have time to argue this out with you now," he began, his tone gentle yet firm. "We're running blind here, Jack; we've got no leads, and I've got everyone working on any new intel that comes in. We don't know when this intel will come in, only that it will, and when it does, we need to be ready. We're a team," he went on, pacing the room, walking past each of them in turn. "We have been through a lot together, situations worse than this." He paused briefly. "That's why I am asking for your help. If this agency is to survive, it needs its best people behind it, people who are standing in this room with me today. If, when this is over, you feel as though you can no longer work for this Government, then I will not stand in your way. Right now, though, I need you."

"Thank you," Michelle said softly. "That means a lot."

"Yes, it does," Curtis echoed, bowing his head briefly.

"Jack?"

The Director turned to his second in command. Chloe frowned as she saw something pass between them; she sensed that perhaps the older man's words held more meaning for Jack than was directly inferred. Jack gripped her hand once more and nodded. "Let's do it."

xxx

He walked slowly through the dimly lit hallway, pausing at one of the regularly spaced windows to admire the world outside as it went about its daily business. He was metres away from them. He'd breathed the same air as them, walked right past them, socialised with them. They hadn't noticed him, of course, but he'd noticed them. Every single one of them. To them, he was just another being, someone to shove past on the subway, someone to wait behind in a line. When he died they'd never have known he existed.

It hadn't always been that way.

Pushing away from the window, he resumed his slow pace, ignoring for once his cell phone as it started to vibrate inside his jacket pocket.

Once he'd been powerful. He'd had perhaps what some would describe as everything; perfect job, perfect wife. He still had the job, although the satisfaction he used to obtain from it had left him long ago, rendering him hollow. He often wondered why he carried on doing what he did. The wife... she'd left him. She'd figured him out, seen behind the mask. Or at least she thought she had. She'd seen something that scared her, but the full extent of what he was hiding remained safely locked up behind the defences he'd put in place many years ago. He hadn't argued with her when she'd gone; he'd just made sure she wouldn't ever get the chance to reveal what she'd found to anyone else. He didn't know if they'd found her body yet. He'd been assured that it was somewhere... secure... but even he, sheltered though he was in his position, was aware that 'secure' didn't remain that way for very long.

His cell phone started up once more and this time he took it out of his pocket. He frowned at the caller ID, decided he didn't want to speak to them, and cancelled the call.

xxx

"Kenny, have we heard from the girls yet?"

"They'll have your ass if they hear you talking about them like that," the field agent warned, a grin on his face as he and the Director shared a private joke. He closed the door behind him. "Actually, Mr. Turner, sir, Amanda just called in. She said they've landed safely."

Hal nodded, his lips pursed in thought. "I figured it would be Amanda who called in," he said to no one in particular.

"Yeah, I guess," Kenny agreed, watching his superior carefully. "So... we're getting three agents from LA?"

"Yes, that's right." Kenny noticed that he didn't elaborate on who exactly would be coming, or when they would be getting there. "I have to say, I don't know what good could come of this."

"Oh?"

Turner glanced at his third in command warily, before motioning for him to take a seat across from the desk. Kenny paused, and then did as asked. "With Maria gone, you're effectively next in command," Hal began. Kenny nodded; the same thought had occured to him as soon as the transfers had been announced. "I personally would rather not have sent Maria, but there we are, she's gone. What I say next does not go out of this office, are we clear?"

Hal was at least ten years older, not that it showed on a normal day. That day, however, the lines on his forehead and the bags under his eyes were more prominent than usual. A weight was resting on his shoulders, and as Director, he had been charged with making sure Langley's wishes had been carried out to the letter. Kenny Thompson swallowed nervously, nodded, and sat back to wait.

xxx

"It's too hot."

The taller of the two rolled her eyes as she dragged her luggage through the busy arrivals lounge of LAX. She had to admit; it _was _hot, but they hadn't come to enjoy, or not enjoy, the weather. "Well, soon we'll be back inside, and you can rush into the bathroom and sort out your makeup."

"Are you suggesting there is something _wrong _with my makeup, Amos?"

"I'm suggesting that you're too paranoid for your own good," the blonde replied smoothly, putting greater distance between them. Behind her, her co-worker struggled to keep up, laden as she was with not one but three suitcases, one of which was being pulled along by an annoyed airport worker.

Pushing through the throngs of late holiday makers and straggling children took longer than either of them had anticipated. Their flight had been early, yet they had lost time in waiting for the baggage carousel. Stepping out into the sunshine, Amanda was still on east coast time; glancing at her watch she saw it was approaching midday, not mid-afternoon. "Will you _wait?" _came an anguished shriek not too far behind her. The doors crashed open and Amanda stepped aside while Maria and her bags were deposited on the sidewalk beside her. "Great, now what?" huffed the brunette, tucking a strand of hair impatiently behind her ear. "I told you we should have rented a damn car."

"Hal said we didn't need to-"

"Oh, screw Hal. He's not here. I say we go back in there-" she indicated to the glass walled airport terminal behind them, eyeing it with distaste- "and find out about hiring a car."

Amanda raised her eyebrows. It was times such as these when she found it hard to fathom just quite how the woman stood beside her had become CTU Boston's second in command. The cool exterior she put on for the rest of them at work was impressive, Amanda had to admit. It was only in situations very much like the one they now found themselves in, that Maria Silver's cool slipped. She wasn't in control. It was too hot. There was no car waiting to spirit them into downtown Los Angeles, no agent there to greet them. "We'll just have to get a cab," Amanda went on, shading her eyes as she scanned the road in front of them. "Look, there's one." She picked up her bag and made to move forward, but fingernails digging into the bare flesh of her arm caused her to falter. "Maria," she hissed, "will you stop? Just for once, let's agree to disagree, get in the damn cab and get to CTU?"

"I outrank you," Maria reminded her, somewhat childishly.

"Yes, you do."

"Oh, Amos, you're killing me with your humour," she muttered. "Fine. We'll get a cab. But when we get to CTU, I'm going to speak to Burton, or whatever his name is, and find out about a car."

"Okay."

"Now help me with these bags," she ordered, thrusting the heaviest in Amanda's direction. A look passed between them but Amanda took the bag, leading the way across to an idling cab.

"Ladies! Hey, hold up."

They turned to find a tall, dark haired man jogging towards them, an apologetic smile on his face. "Mike Adamson, CTU Los Angeles," he informed them, holding out his badge. Maria scrutinised it, and then him, closely. "You're late," she said none too politely, once she and Amanda had showed their credentials. The agent nodded. "I know, and I'm sorry. Traffic." He stepped round them and offered to take a suitcase. "Here, take this one," Maria told him, indicating to the heavy bag she had just handed to Amanda. Adamson smiled and did as asked, wincing only slightly at the weight. "I'm just parked over here," he went on, nodding towards a black sedan. The women exchanged a glance and started after him.

"Government plates," Amanda muttered, and Maria nodded. "Can't be too careful, Amos," she agreed, standing back as the Los Angeles agent popped the trunk and began lifting the bags into it. They settled themselves in the back seat and waited.

"Right," Maria began, winding down the window, "so we're staying on site, correct?"

Amanda nodded, somewhat grateful that Maria had reverted back to her 'working voice.' There was only so much of the whining she could take. "Yes, there are living quarters. It's easier than getting a hotel," she replied. Maria nodded. "Yes, it is. This way, if something goes down, we'll be on site."

"You don't sound as though you think something _will _be going down," Amos observed.

"I don't, quite frankly," Maria responded. "Hal's right. This is a load of crap, this transfer. Boston has been elevated to a code red; he thinks LA has been, too. If it was so damn serious, why are we here and not there? I mean," she went on, "I guess something _could _happen, because Langley are getting worked up about it. This is a precaution, nothing more. They'll leave us here for a week or two, make sure nothing happens while we're gone that Boston can't cope with, and then we can go back."

Amanda frowned. "What do you mean, nothing happens that Boston can't deal with? I don't see how our being here will stop terrorists from attacking, if that's what they want to do. They still don't know why Boston has been targeted," she reminded the other woman.

"Then that's what we're here for." Maria shifted in her seat, wound the window down further. "We'll share resources with Los Angeles until we find out why the two locations have been chosen. Nothing will happen, Amanda. Langley will soon realise they are overreacting. If they thought something immediate was going to happen in either agency, they would not be flying us across the country."

"No," Amos admitted, although she couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled over her the minute they'd set foot in Los Angeles. She turned to peer out of the back window. "What's taking him so long?" she wondered aloud.

"Probably grabbing a smoke break."

"You should know."

"I'll have you know I'm trying to quit."

"Right."

Maria scowled, just as the driver's door was thrown open and Adamson seated himself heavily behind the wheel. "Good to go?" he asked. Amanda nodded, her eyes on the window, taking in the bustle of the airport. A heavy set man with grey hair was pushing his way towards the car; Mike too noticed this and slammed his foot down a little too abruptly. As they veered away from the terminal, Amanda saw the man running back in the direction he had come, a cell phone glued to his ear. Frowning, she glanced at Maria, who seemed oblivious. She slipped her hand into her jacket pocket and felt the reassuring weight of her own cell phone. Curling her fingers around it, she tried not to panic as they sped towards the freeway. An ominous click sounded to her right and she frantically sought Maria's eyes. The other woman was pale, one hand firmly around the firearm at her belt. They were effectively trapped inside the vehicle.


	4. Chapter 3

_**Black Cloud- Chapter Three**_

Milo snatched up the phone, cursing as he did so. "CTU, Pressman," he snapped, one eye warily on the screen in front of him. "Come on, come on, refresh faster," he muttered. Chloe shot him a sideways glance. "You want me to...?" He glared and turned his back to her. "Hello, is anyone there? I don't have time for this... oh, hey, Mike. Whoa, slow down... you _what?_" He paused, muttered something unintelligible. "Okay, _stay there. _I'll notify Buchanan; we'll send a team out. Keep this line open." Ending the call, he started to punch in Buchanan's extension, thought better of it, and hung up. "We need to send a team to LAX," he told Chloe, his face pale. "Adamson just called in; he saw the Boston agents getting into a car with some random guy he didn't recognise."

"Start pulling satellite," Chloe ordered. "How many units have we got in the area?"

"One."

"I'll call field ops."

xxx

As the car picked up speed, Amanda did her best to keep her expression neutral. With limited field training, she was relying perhaps more than she should have been on the woman sat beside her to keep her safe. Maria was no field agent, yet unfortunately had had the experience of using the weapon she now grasped in her hand. It would be down to sheer luck, plus the accuracy of her aim, if they were to make it out of the vehicle alive.

In the front seat, Adamson paid no attention to his hostages, focussing instead on weaving in and out of the afternoon traffic without attracting attention to himself. Occasionally he swore, as someone veered into his line of traffic, but the women used his ignorance to their advantage. Mindful of provoking him, Maria tilted her head slightly in Amanda's direction. Once certain that the movement hadn't been noticed, she mouthed, "Have you got your cell phone?" Amos nodded briefly. "Try and flip it open," Maria went on. "Call Hal, he'll notify Burton."

Deciding that now wasn't the time to correct Maria on the LA Director's name, the analyst nodded again and tightened her grip on the cell phone in her pocket. As best as she could, she turned it face up, trying to control her breathing as her shaking fingers slipped before finally hitting the speed dial for Boston. She'd called it so many times; never would she have thought it would turn out to be a blessing in disguise to have programmed the office number into her personal cell. Under any other circumstances, Silver would probably have laughed at her for it. She dipped her head to alert Maria that the call was going through, praying that their captor would not be able to distinguish the tinny sound of Hal's voice over the din of the vehicles around them.

"Lovely weather," Maria piped up suddenly. "Such a shame to be stuck in a car with the windows shut."

Immediately, Amanda understood what she was trying to do, however her words failed to elicit a response from Adamson.

"I don't suppose you could slow it down a notch, could you?" Maria went on. She caught Amanda's eye. "Anything?"

"I don't know."

Surprisingly, the vehicle did slow then. Looking out of the window Maria saw that they were leaving the freeway for more open terrain. "Shit," she muttered, and the tremor in her voice did not go unnoticed. At least on the freeway there were road markers; out here there was nothing to distinguish one stretch of road from another.

They travelled a few minutes in silence, the wheels of the car kicking up dirt and spraying it in all directions. One car passed them, and then another, until they were alone. Indicating left, Adamson pulled the vehicle sharply across to the other side of the road and brought it to a halt. Hardly daring to breathe, the agents watched as he climbed out of the car and began making his way to the back. Amanda was closest; Maria could see the panic in her eyes. "Just do what he asks," she muttered in what she hoped was a reassuring tone. The blonde closed her eyes. "You're the one with the gun," she managed to bite out, just as the door was wrenched open and she was pulled out into the afternoon heat.

xxx

"You'll meet up with Adamsonat this location; he's already tailing the car using the co-ordinates I pulled off the satellite," Milo explained breathlessly, matching Jack's strides as he left the arms room. "This will link you up to us here; Chloe andTony are running point," he went on, handing the field agent the customary ear piece. Jack took it. "Thanks, Milo," he said quietly, glancing around to ensure that the rest of his team were ready. He spotted Chloe walking towards him, couldn't help the lump in his throat. "I'll make contact as soon as I'm onsite," he informed Milo, who nodded and moved away, back to the main floor.

Chloe stepped closer, yet maintained her distance. "I love you," she murmured.

"I love you."

It had become their ritual before he went out into the field, as though a declaration of their feelings would prevent any harm from coming to him, would protect him from whatever lay beyond the closed doors of CTU.He started to say something, but was interrupted as the door behind him crashed open and field agents began jogging down the hallway and out into the rear parking lot.

"Tell me when you get back," she said, noticing as always the tell-tale signs; the way his eyes were searching hers, how he was absentmindedly clenching and unclenching his fists. "This is more important now."

And she was right, of course. Breaking the unspoken rule they had set between them, he pulled her towards him and kissed her hard on the mouth. It was brief; she responded but only just before he let her go, and turned to follow his team out of them building.

Returning to the floor, Chloe took a seat between Milo and Tony. Curtis was across at his station, still helping to trawl through the exhausting amount of hourlies that were now filtering through the system. Michelle was nowhere to be seen; most likely holed up in the tech room, making sure that the computers did not fail them during this mission. Buchanan was poised behind the analysts, headset in place.

"CTU, this is Bauer, we're en-route." Jack's voice crackled across the radio minutes later and the team breathed a collective sigh of relief. They'd been working better, and more closely, in the last two years. The job was still the job, but they'd how learned to matter more to each other, and when to let it show.

"I've got you on satellite," Chloe told him, her eyes focussed and her voice authoritative. They watched as Jack guided the SUV onto the freeway, weaving effortlessly through their neighbouring vehicles.

Beside her, Tony was yelling instructions at Adamson. "I don't care if you know what the car looks like; _stand down _until Bauer gets there, do you understand me?" He swivelled to face Buchanan. "Mike says he can see the car parked off under some trees, and he wants the go ahead to move in."

Bill grabbed the receiver out of Tony's hand. "Mike, this is Bill. Wait for Jack. He's almost with you. We've got another team on the way also; you are not going in without back up." Muttering a curse under his breath, Buchanan passed the phone back to Tony and peered in at Chloe's screen. "What's that there?" he asked, pointing.

Chloe frowned, enlarged the image. "Looks like another vehicle parked just up from Adamson's... I mean, the bad guy's," she corrected. "Damn it. He's got reinforcements."

"Precisely why Mike needs to _wait," _Tony muttered.

Bill stepped back and spoke into his mouthpiece. "Jack, this is Bill. Looks like our guy brought company. Proceed with caution."

"Copy that."

"He's parked at our guy's one o clock, slightly up the road and out of sight," Chloe went on, refreshing the images as she spoke.

"We got any idea who this guy _is?_" asked Milo, still smarting from having been shunted to the station adjoining the comm. unit. "I've run his description through an all-agency filter and- wait, hold on." He frowned. "I think this could be it. Mike, this is Milo, I'm sending you a picture to your PDA... can you confirm?"

"Send it to Jack and the other back up team," Bill instructed.

"On it... just need confirmation... thank you, Mike. That's our guy!" Milo shouted, relaying the intel to the incoming teams.

"Name?"

"Goes by Paul Winter, you can bet it's an alias."

"Alias or not, start checking him with everything we've got so far."

"Well, that will take all of five minutes."

"Just do it, please, Milo?"

xxx

Jack spotted Mike Adamson's black SUV parked in a lay by only metres from the intersection where Winter had left the freeway. The agent was apoplectic with anger and impatience by the time the back up teams assembled themselves around the vehicles. "What the hell took you guys so long? I would have gone in myself, only Almeida and Buchanan told me to wait." He spat on the floor, a clear indication of what he thought about the situation. Ignoring this, Jack glanced up at the turning. He could see the road turn quickly into dirt, and sure enough a conspicuous dark green saloon was barely visible from their position. "If he hasn't seen us yet, he will soon, so we need to move fast."

"We could have moved a lot faster if it hadn't taken you an age to get your butts down here," Adamson went on.

Jack raised his eye brows. "Mike. If you do not like my way of doing things, please, feel free to drive back to CTU and explain to Buchanan why you are back before the mission is completed."

A few men sniggered, but Jack kept his gaze locked on Adamson. Finally, the older man sighed in defeat. "Fine, Bauer. You know I'm not going anywhere."

"Thank you." Jack turned his attention to the rest of the team. "Paul Winter. That's who we're looking for. He impersonated Mike and took the two Boston agents hostage. We don't know what condition he or they are in, only that he is most likely armed. There is another vehicle, parked at his one o clock. We can assume that Winter has someone waiting for him, possibly to transfer the agents to another location. Chloe, can you find me another route up into that intersection?"

"On it, Jack... hold on, yes, there is. You can get to the track on foot, it's a bit of a walk though."

"Have the area covered, have air support on standby if we need it."

"Yes."

"Okay, Team A. You're with me. We're going over there..." he pointed to a slight opening in the trees a few metres to their left, "... and we're going to surprise him. Team B, you are to maintain a watch here, and move in to pursue if either vehicle leaves the track," he went on, pointing to his PDA. "If our ambush is successful, and only then, will Team B move in to assist. Is this clear?"

Murmurs in the affirmative met Jack's ears. "Good. If you need to shoot, you shoot to wound only. We want Winter, anyone with him, and the Boston agents, alive." His eyes met Mike's once more. "Mike, you're with me." Adamson nodded. "Then let's move."

xxx

Hal Turner crashed out of his office and flew down the stairs to where Kenny stood with a phone in his hand. "She's gone, sir. There was this muttering, and then the line went dead..." He trailed off, not daring to imagine what could have become of his friends.

"Tell me exactly what you heard," Hal demanded.

"Well, not a lot, sir," Thompson admitted, hanging his head. "I didn't even know who it was first, as they wouldn't respond, but then I heard Maria saying something about it being too hot to be stuck in a car with the windows shut, and then something else about driving too fast..."

"Shit!" Hal stopped pacing and ran a hand across his face. "Okay, here's what we do. Get me the hourlies, I want to know if this has been logged."

"You think they've been taken, sir?"

"Well, Kenny, it sure does look like it, doesn't it?" His tone was harsh, and he knew it, but he couldn't bring himself to apologise. "I'm going to phone Buchanan, find out what they're playing at over there and why they didn't think to inform us."

"Maybe they don't know?"

"Bill assured me one of his agents would be there to pick the girls up. Either his guy is dirty, or someone else picked them up." He started back for his office. "Either way, I want to know. Now. Get me those damn hourlies."

Not waiting for Kenny to respond, Hal continued on his way. Leaving his office door open, he snatched up the phone and dialled LA. Buchanan picked up after the third ring.

"Bill, it's Hal. When exactly were you going to tell me that my agents had been taken hostage?"

"Hal, believe me, we are doing everything we can... Milo, that's a negative, can they confirm that they have both agents in view? Sorry, Hal..." Bill took a breath. "I've got my head of field ops on this; he's the best this agency has. We'll get them back."

Hal closed his eyes briefly. "Are we dealing with a dirty agent?"

"My God, no. Someone was waiting for them outside the airport... Hal, I've got to go, my field teams just moved into position." Buchanan rang off with a promise to call back as soon as the situation was resolved. Hal let the receiver slip out of his hand, not bothering to hide the expression of complete and utter helplessness that crossed his face as Kenny stepped awkwardly into the room.

"Someone was waiting for them..." he muttered. "Some sick son of a bitch has taken them hostage, and now..."

Knowing better than to coddle the older man, Kenny attempted to bring the Director's mind back to the present. "Sir, I'm sorry, but we need you on the floor. Apparently there's something wrong with the server."

Turner got wearily to his feet, wiped a hand across his forehead and swallowed. "Then why are we stood up here talking?" he demanded, leading the way back down to the bullpen.

xxx

"Do you know who I am?"

Amanda struggled for a Maria-like response but failed, deciding it was probably better not to push her luck. "No." She winced as her captor tightened his grip on her arm, hauling her further up the dirt track. She'd spotted the other vehicle, assumed he was taking her there to deposit her with someone else, or even drive her away himself. Neither prospect filled her with hope. "I'm guessing you're not Mike Adamson," she tried finally, when it was clear he wasn't going to elaborate.

"Very good."

"And I'm guessing you were waiting for us to get off the plane."

"They told me analysts were smart," he mused.

"Yeah, well, that's what we get paid for."

"Not so smart now though, are you? I mean, getting into a car with a stranger? Didn't either of you even think to check the plates?"

"They were Government issue." Amanda's voice faltered; they'd made a mistake and he knew it. "Yes Agent Amos, they were," he said slowly. "Not CTU, though."

She felt her heartbeat quicken its already relentless pace. CTU plates were similar to that of other agencies, but not overly so; could they really have slipped up over something as seemingly insignificant as that?

"Of course, you were both tired, jet-lagged. Understandable."

She had been the one to clock the plates; if anything happened to either of them it would be her fault. "Who the hell are you?" she choked out, blinking back tears of anger and frustration. "Are you telling me you're some kind of rogue Government agent?"

He laughed. "Not 'rogue', exactly, Ms. Amos." He stopped suddenly. "Stay there," he warned, letting go of her arm. "Don't even think about trying anything."

Amanda wasn't doing a lot of thinking about anything. She felt so faint she feared she would pass out, rendering herself an even easier target than she'd already proved to be. She pressed a shaking hand to her forehead and watched as he moved across to the other car, which she now saw was abandoned. He circled it three times, peering in all the windows, testing the doors and tyres. Once satisfied, he stood back. "You're driving," he called, swinging the driver's door open and beckoning to Amanda. "Get over here."

Something in the back of her mind started to click. She realised that Maria was still in the other car, only metres down the track. Sure, he'd locked her in, and Maria had left her cell phone in her suitcase, but she was Maria Silver, and Amanda was more than certain her fellow agent wouldn't just sit back and wait for something to happen to them. She felt a splinter of hope flare in her chest and tried to stall for time.

"I, uh, I don't have a driver's licence," she stammered, remaining where she was.

His eyes widened and she sensed that she'd annoyed him. "What kind of Government agent doesn't have a driver's licence?"

"I don't," Amanda insisted.

"We'll see about that." He reached inside his jacket and pulled out the weapon Amanda knew he'd been concealing. "It's like this, Ms. Amos. I'm starting to lose my patience here. Either you get in the car and drive, or I will shoot you."

_He needs me alive. If he was going to shoot me he would have done it already. _"Shoot me then, because even if I do get in the car, I won't make it go anywhere."

An angry growl escaped his throat. Lunging forward, he took her in a vicious headlock, wrestling her to the ground. She felt tears burn her eyes and she blinked them back, ashamed. He moved so that he was stood over her, gun pointed at her chest. "Your friend is locked in the car; don't think she's coming for you because she isn't. No one knows you're here, and no one will find either of you for days-" He tailed off as gravel crunched under heavy footsteps.

"I don't think so, you son of a bitch."

xxx

"Shots fired! I repeat, shots fired!"

Chloe felt the colour drain from her cheeks. It was her cue to ascertain just _who_ had fired, but Tony beside her had sensed her unease and already asked the question. "Damn it, Jack, will you answer me?"

"Team A, confirm your status." Appearing behind them once more, Bill barked authoritatively into his headset. Seconds later, muffled breathing came over the line, followed by Mike Adamson's voice interspersed with static. "CTU, this is Team A, shots fired. Suspect dead, hostage injured."

"I gave the order to shoot to wound only!"

"Sir, it was not a CTU hit. Maria Silver shot and killed the hostile, we're confirming his identity now." Even as he spoke, an image materialised on the screen before them. Bill sighed heavily. "Any sign of other hostiles?"

"Negative, sir, but we're sweeping the area and searching both vehicles."

"Mike... how injured is Agent Amos?"

"She's not critical. Bauer's bringing them back in now, sir. I'm heading up the sweep on Bauer's orders."

"Okay. Keep me informed and get back as soon as you have anything."

"This is just getting better and better," Tony muttered, pushing back his chair and getting to his feet. "No leads, no suspect. I just hope they can find something on the cars. The guy probably wasn't stupid enough to leave prints."

"Probably not," Buchanan admitted. "But we've got to start somewhere. I have to admit, I am more than a little apprehensive about sending the three of you across to Boston."

Amidst the excitement, their predicament had been temporarily forgotten. "Maybe we won't have to go now," Chloe said quietly. Tony and Bill exchanged a glance. "I'm afraid this means the transfer is likely to be accelerated," the Director explained sadly, walking away to carry out his earlier promise to Turner.

Glancing up from his work, Curtis frowned. "Hey, guys, you might want to see this," he called. Grateful for the distraction, Chloe stood and followed Tony across the floor, leaving Milo to keep an eye to the main screens. "Paul Winter was in fact our guy's name," Curtis explained, quickly bringing a file up on the screen. "He's not a Government agent, for starters. But check this out. No previous form, even helped the Boston PD out on a couple of cases, systems analyst. During one of these cases, their entire server crashed and they lost a lot of classified intel. They assumed they had managed to retrieve all stolen data."

"Or not," Tony muttered.

"My thoughts exactly."

Chloe scowled. "How could this guy have gotten access to CTU files via a local Boston police department?"

"Now that's the interesting part," Curtis replied, smiling grimly. "Turns out Winter worked as a freelance analyst. Highly skilled, according to this Boston PD report. They only found out that they hadn't retrieved all their missing intel when a few of their cops wound up dead. No one could pin it on Winter, but let's just say he stopped freelancing pretty soon after that."

Tony shook his head incredulously. "So he could have gained access to CTU, if he knew where to look."

"Which he obviously did," Chloe finished. "Even with the upgrades I put on the server, it's still too exposed to someone who knows what they are doing. And even though Winter is dead, he can't have been working alone."

"Nah, he was small fry," Tony muttered. "He was working with, or for, someone much more skilled." He straightened, rubbing his arms against the persistent chill in the air. As he walked away, Chloe turned back to the comm. unit. "I guess I'd better start collecting this data the field teams are sending in."

Curtis frowned. "Hey, Milo can handle that for a second." He regarded her with concern. "Are you okay?"

Chloe bit her lip, careful even now, despite everything, to keep her emotions in check. "I'm a little worried, but that doesn't matter now."

"He's okay, Chloe," Curtis went on gently.

"I know he is," she said abruptly. She sighed heavily. "Thanks for your concern, Curtis, but I'm fine. I can put myself on hold until this crisis is over; I'm no good to anyone otherwise. Jack will be back in a minute, and Mr. Buchanan will want us all in a briefing so I need to get back to work." Turning on her heel, she marched away from him, her pace unfaltering. Curtis watched her go, a sad smile on his face.

xxx

The medical team met them from the rear entrance to CTU, a stretcher at the ready. Jack indicated that they load Amanda on to it; she held up a hand in protest. "I appreciate this, Agent Bauer, but I'm fine."

"You are not fine, so do as he says," Maria instructed, all but pushing the other woman towards the waiting medics. Amanda tried for a glare, resulting in a grimace as her neck twinged painfully. Rolling her eyes, Maria slammed the car door shut and helped Amanda settle on the stretcher. "I'll be right behind you," she said firmly.

"I never knew you cared," Amanda muttered.

"Ah, there's the Amos I know and love," Maria retorted.

Jack watched the exchange, his eye brow raised. "You saved her life," he reminded Maria once Amanda had disappeared inside. "You really expect us to believe that the two of you can't stand each other?"

"Believe what you want, Agent Bauer."

"You should probably get checked out too. Buchanan's only going to send you to medical later if I don't send you now."

"I'd much rather you sent me." Her tone was low; she took a step closer and placed a hand briefly on his arm. Before Jack could respond, she was walking away, hurrying to catch up with her co-worker.

He took a few moments to gather his thoughts before pushing the doors open and making his way slowly back to the bullpen. His earlier conversation with Chloe flashed into his mind; she knew he wanted to tell her something. She most likely wasn't hurt by his silence, herself unused to voicing her feelings so openly. He wanted to tell her before she left for Boston, but the timing wasn't right. He knew she would worry about it constantly, and he couldn't do that to her.

He found her sitting beside Milo, the pair of them hunched together over the main screen occupying the comm. unit. Images of Paul Winter, as well as the two vehicles he had been using, flashed up before him as the field teams sent in their intel. Soon, he knew, the agents would return, and they would be back to square one. As he approached Chloe, Curtis caught his attention and waved him over. Slightly put out, Jack changed course. "Curtis," he greeted. "You found something?"

"I have," Curtis confirmed, and proceeded to pass on the information he had just revealed to the rest of the team. "Tony's filling Michelle in now; she's still in tech one finishing up."

"Right." Jack nodded absently, processing the details. "But we have no idea who he could have been working for?" he asked.

"None at all, as yet. The sooner we get going on this, the better. I mean," he added hastily, "we could use the Boston agents' help here, seeing as three of us will be heading out soon. Buchanan wants to see you in his office," Curtis went on. "He seems to think we'll be leaving sooner than any of us thought, and I think he's right."

"Damn it," Jack cursed softly. "Why do we never have enough time?"

"The perks of the job, I guess," Curtis quipped, but his expression was serious. "I'm going to start processing the data coming in from the field, see if an extra pair of eyes will throw up anything new. Chloe and Milo are swamped over there, anyway. These damn hourlies are starting to become more like half-hourlies, if you ask me."

Jack managed a tired smile. "I guess I'll leave you to it," he murmured, glancing up at the Director's office. It was empty. Seizing an opportunity to snatch a few minutes they didn't really have, Jack walked quickly across to the comm. unit and dipped his head to whisper in Chloe's ear. She looked up, startled, but followed him up the stairs and into his own office without question.

She shut the door behind them, watching as he slipped off his jacket and threw it across the back of his desk chair. He gripped the edge of his desk, and she could see he was battling with himself. "There's something you need to tell me, isn't there." She didn't phrase it as a question. Stepping behind him, she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his back. "But it's okay, I can wait until you're ready."

"I might never be ready," he said quietly.

"Oh."

Silently berating himself, Jack twisted round and held her tightly. "Sweetheart, that's not what I meant. I'm sorry. I just... this isn't the right time, the right day, but the stupid thing is that it could be the best opportunity I have and I just can't work up the courage to tell you."

Chloe blinked up at him, her confusion evident. "Please don't tell me you don't love me any more," she whispered. "I can deal with pretty much anything, just not that."

He shook his head sadly. "Baby, I love you." As if to emphasise his point he kissed her deeply. Chloe tasted salt; frowning, she saw tears spilling down his cheeks. The sight gripped her with fear. "Oh, Jack," she choked, burying her face in his shoulder. "Jack, anything you want, or anything you need me to do, I'll do it."

And there was his chance. _Leave with me. Leave CTU, this job, this life, and we'll run away some place safe, where I can protect you... if you'll let me. _Taking a shaky breath, he pressed a hand against her cheek, caressing her skin. "Sweetheart, you're going to Boston soon." The words tasted bitter as they left his mouth, and he swallowed. Chloe smiled gently, encouraging him. "W-what would you say if I asked you to... to leave CTU? Leave with me?"

The silence that followed his words was so thick it could have been cut by a knife. Chloe didn't back away, didn't speak, didn't move. Her face was unreadable. Jack felt regret wash over him; he'd finally asked too much of her.

"Jack, I-"

The desk phone started to ring, cutting her off. It took Jack a few seconds to focus, locate the source of the noise and remember where he was. Releasing Chloe, he picked up the receiver, spoke briefly, and hung up. "Bill," he explained.

"You should probably go speak to him."

"Yeah."

"I should go help Curtis."

"Chloe..." He reached out and took her arm as she walked towards the door. "Are we okay?"

"Yes, we're okay," she soothed. "We're okay."

xxx

"Where have you been? We've been looking for you; you're needed in that meeting up in conference room ten."

He was bombarded the minute he stepped back out into the lobby. The peace and quiet of the basement levels had left him as soon as the elevator doors had slid open, and he missed it. Smiling at his latest interruption, he assured the guy he'd be where he was supposed to be in a few minutes, and could he kindly leave him alone to grab a glass of water before the meeting started? His co-worker scurried away dejectedly, and he felt a brief pang of guilt which he pushed quickly aside. They spoke to him like that; why couldn't he speak to the lower level staffers in the same way?

His office was at the end of the hall; he had to pass a dozen curious stares as he made his way up the stairs, around the corner and past the water cooler. An office with a view had seemed like a good idea at the time; now he simply found it an inconvenience.

There were messages waiting on his desk. Discarding most of them, he flipped through the rest until he found what he was looking for. He smiled. He'd been expecting this one. As soon as he'd cut off the call, he suspected that whoever had been trying to contact him would leave him a message; he wasn't best pleased when his orders were ignored.

He glanced at his watch, saw that he was now late for the meeting. They would probably call him on it, but right now he didn't care. He had a phone call to make. Closing and locking the door, he switched on his cell phone and dialled.

"So you are alive then?" The voice on the other end was angry. "I don't think you have any idea just how important this is, do you?"

"I know," he said quietly, and he did.

"Yeah, you keep telling me that. Look, I haven't got a lot of time here. That damn meeting is already underway, and we're both supposed to be there. Seeing as you won't drag your sorry ass out of your office for it, I've got to go. Sometimes I wonder who is in charge here," he muttered. "As I will be detained, I will need you to implement the next stage of the plan."

"What happened to the first stage?"

A sigh, the sound of cigarette smoke being inhaled. "It was going fine, until Winter got himself shot and killed."

"Damn it."

"Yes, that's what I thought," the voice muttered dryly. "The last I heard was that one of the women shot him, just as the LA team turned up to save the day. So, I've been doing a little thinking. Seeing as they have effectively ruined our plans, we're going to ruin theirs. I was quite happy to go along with this transfer idea, until they helped take one of my men out of play."

"The transfer..." he repeated, familiarising himself with the concept. He took a deep breath, anxious to receive his next orders. "What do you need me to do?"

xxx

"I've got something on the car!" Curtis announced.

Michelle, having returned from the tech room minutes earlier, was the first to reach him. "Which car?"

"The first one," Curtis went on. He looked up as first Tony and then Chloe crowded round. "It's a Government car, Virginia plates. Langley registered."

"Do we know the owner?" Tony demanded, his eyes widening.

"No, not yet. Seems this car was one of many that could be loaned via a permit; anyone in Langley could have had it."

"Maybe it was stolen?" Michelle suggested quietly. "That could make sense. Why else would a car with Virginia plates be in Los Angeles? Whenever Langley visits, they sure as hell make sure everyone knows about it; they wouldn't just show up."

Michelle's words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. The four of them turned as one as Buchanan hurried towards them, followed closely by Jack. Across the floor, they could hear Milo shouting at someone through the phone line; blocking this out, Buchanan addressed his team for the second time that day.

"The transfer is still going ahead," he began, raising his voice to be heard over the din of the floor. "It is now happening ahead of schedule... you will need to be ready to leave within the hour. The plane is on standby, and I have requisitioned a vehicle to take you to LAX as soon as you are ready. I'll need to release the three of you to return home for your belongings, but please, pack minimally." His normally authoritative tone was rendered more so by the underlying sense of urgency. "I really am sorry."

"No need to be," Tony told him. "Curtis just pulled some intel on the car; turns out it's a Langley vehicle. We need to get going on this."

Buchanan stared disbelievingly at the screen as Curtis turned it to face him. Before he could properly digest the information, Milo's voice rang out across the bullpen, effectively bringing it to a halt. "Boston's been hit!"

Jack whirled. "What do you mean, _hit_?"

Milo glared impatiently. "I _mean_, their entire system has just crashed."


	5. Chapter 4

_**Black Cloud-**__** Chapter Four**_

"Let's take a look at you then."

"Seriously, Maria, you can stop putting on an act now. It's just you and me, and I know you don't care really." Amanda shifted uncomfortably on the bed she had been forced to sit on, her neck awkwardly wrapped in a brace. Maria was perched in the chair to her right, taking in their new surroundings with a mixture of boredom and excitement. "Come on, Amos, I'm not that bad. I care a bit. Can't have you killed on the first day now, can I? What would Hal say?"

Amanda aimed a mock glare in the brunette's direction, which she pretended not to see.

"What do you think then?" Maria asked suddenly, changing the subject. Amanda frowned. "Of what?"

"Of LA."

"Well, from what I've seen of it, I would say it's got some really great dirt roads," Amanda muttered sarcastically.

"I didn't mean _that_." Maria glanced quickly at the door, before lowering her voice. "I meant, what do you think of CTU Los Angeles, namely its head of field ops?"

Amanda rolled her eyes. "I think he's probably married."

"Always so negative."

"Yes, well, one of us has to be."

"I've heard about him though."

"About who?"

"_Jack Bauer. _Honestly, Amanda. Keep up. His wife died right here in CTU, about ten years ago now, and his ex girlfriend has been locked up for treason."

Amanda raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like great relationship material to me, Maria."

"Oh, but I disagree. I think he would be perfect. He just needs someone to take care of him, someone to show him a good time."

"And that person would be you?"

"I'm sure as hell going to give it a shot," Maria responded, just as the doors to the medical wing swung open and Bill Buchanan strode through them, looking thoroughly harassed. Both women turned their attention to him. "I'm sorry for such an... abrupt arrival into the agency, but I'm afraid we need you on the floor," Bill explained, eyeing Amanda's neck with unease. "Agent Amos, if you prefer, I can have a wheelchair-"

"Honestly, Mr. Buchanan, I'm fine." Amanda hopped gingerly down from the bed and took the arm the Director offered her as support. "What can we do to help?"

Bill led the way from the room, Amanda beside him and Maria close behind. "I'm afraid there has been a problem in Boston; my second lead analyst has reported complete system failure." He noticed Amanda blanch considerably. "I helped write the programs we have in place over there," she said quietly.

"Milo said they went dark approximately five minutes ago; their phone lines are jammed, no doubt with calls from Division, but we're trying to establish contact," Buchanan assured her, holding the door to the bullpen open and ushering the agents through.

The main floor was awash with noise, and Maria spotted at least six agents crowded around the central hub. Taking this to be the comm. station, she was unsurprised when Buchanan led them towards it. She spotted Jack to the left of the unit, standing behind who appeared to be the lead analyst. Maria met his eye and offered a smile, which he returned if only briefly.

"Agent Amos-"

"Amanda, please."

"Amanda," Bill tried, a ghost of a smile crossing his lips. "We need you to see if you can access the system remotely, through a back door. Chloe has tried but obviously we're restricted. There is no telling how much intel might have been lost, and the aim is to recover what we can." He indicated for Amanda to step forward. "I'm guessing the back up server has been compromised, too?" Amanda asked, taking the seat vacated by Milo. Beside her, Chloe rolled her eyes. "Yes. That's why it's a complete system failure. Nothing's working."

"Hey, less of that," Maria interjected. "We won't be spoken to like we're a pair of morons."

"That's how Chloe speaks to everyone," Milo replied. "Either get used to it, or get out." He moved away from the main hub. "I'm going to try Boston again," he began, but the Director held up a hand to stop him. "No, I need you here with Amanda. Work together to secure our systems and try and recover any lost data from Boston. Michelle," he went on. "Contact Langley. I want to know why this hasn't been called in and flagged."

Maria watched as the tall brunette nodded and hurried away, presumably towards her own station. Buchanan then turned his attention to her. "Agent Silver... Maria. We've had data coming in from the field relating to the two vehicles that were used in the ambush. It would be good to get a fresh eye looking over them, to see if anything has been missed. Agent Manning will get you set up at a station."

"Sure, anything I can do to help," Maria replied, feeling more than a little apprehensive about the distinct lack of leads they were facing. As they turned to walk away, Buchanan cleared his throat. "Curtis, when you're done, please meet us by the rear exit." The agent nodded solemnly.

"Are you going to Boston?" Maria asked, as soon as the rest of the team was out of ear shot.

"Yes, I am," Curtis told her. "Although no one particularly wants to go, as I'm sure you're aware."

"What do you mean?"

They arrived at a small station not far from the staircase leading to the upper levels of the building. Curtis motioned for her to take a seat. "We've found information relating to one of the vehicles; we traced it back to Langley," he said quietly, leaning over Maria's shoulder and bringing up various images on the screen. "So far, standard protocol is in place. Anything important is flagged and sent immediately to Division. But we don't know the significance of this car. It may have been stolen, in which case we need to find out who took it and when."

"Or it may not have been," Maria finished.

He looked pointedly at her. "Precisely."

"So, does Division know this is a Langley vehicle?"

"Yes," Curtis affirmed, stepping back. "The concern now is to watch and see what they do with this information. We also need to take a closer look at the get away vehicle," he went on, pointing to the images before them. "Paul Winter, the guy that took you, is being brought in and our forensic teams are going to pull what they can off him. Right now though, that's all we've got to go on."

She detected the same fear, the same helplessness, in his voice that she too was feeling. The possibility that they were looking at an inside job was a heavy burden to take on. "Okay, Curtis, thanks. I think I'm okay here."

He nodded. "Alright. This is Michelle Dessler's extension," he went on, scribbling a number down on a scrap piece of paper. "She's our assistant IT lead. She'll be in the tech room if you need anything."

"Got it."

xxx

He was nervous. He could tell this just by the way he sat when he entered the office. He'd been pacing to start with, but had soon grown bored of this and perched uneasily on the desk chair, head in his hands. "What the hell are we going to do?" he asked.

Whether or not it was a rhetorical question, he didn't know. He also didn't have the answer, at least not the one he was looking for.

The meeting, he had deduced, had gone badly.

"They know, it's only a matter of time," he kept saying, over and over until he thought his head would explode. His mind flashed to the firearm he kept locked in the bottom drawer of his desk. Should he use it? It was there for show; he'd never once fired the thing, and the idea of doing so made him feel sick. But this was starting to get on his nerves. It was an important mission; he realised this. The pair of them were in deeper than they had ever thought, with no hope now of making it back out. They had to see this thing through till the end.

"Boston's been hit."

"I know, you told me to initiate it," he replied irritably.

"Yes, yes, I know but it's bad. Very bad."

"That was the idea."

He stood then, and the anger in his eyes had the other man shrinking visibly away from him. "You didn't flag it, did you?"

He didn't understand. "N-no..."

"Exactly. It wasn't flagged, you moron, and now they're all over it. System failures are always recorded. _Always. _They'd been having problems for over an hour, but no one said anything."

"Surely it was up to the Director-"

"Yes, it is up to the Director. The Director called it in. You took the call. You didn't, however, let _them _know. They need to know. As far as they were concerned, there was never anything wrong in Boston. And now there is, well..." He threw up his hands in despair. "It's only a matter of time before they trace that call to you."

Panic crashed over him in a cold sweat. "Then how to do they know, if it wasn't flagged?"

"Los Angeles called it in. The damn meeting was going fine until this one phone call, and then bam, agenda change. Budgets can wait, apparently. Complete system failures at a high probability agency can't. Funny, that."

He cast an eye towards his desk. All he had to do was open the drawer-

"Don't you dare. I know what you've got hidden in there, Reeves. What were you going to do, shoot me?" He grinned wickedly. "Or yourself?"

He took a deep breath, tried to calm down. "This doesn't have to be this bad."

"But it is, Reeves. You forget where we are. You forget who we work for."

"We don't work for them. We work for-"

"In the here and now, we work for them. The supreme powers." He laughed bitterly. "I'm biding my time until I can get out of here."

"What do you mean, until you get out of here?"

"Relax, I meant both of us. Now listen." He got to his feet once more, walked over to the window. "I can get into the call log; make it look like it was flagged. That means someone else will take the fall for your mistake."

Reeves allowed himself a twisted smile. "Make it look like they did it."

"Yes, I'm glad you agree. Los Angeles have got the car; why not give them this to chew with it? Slow them down."

"Speaking of which," Reeves said quickly, "I put those measures in place that you asked for."

"Excellent." He looked at his watch. "What time?"

"Within the hour."

xxx

The bullpen had effectively come to a standstill, save for the small team of analysts working frantically at the comm. unit. Hal Turner surveyed the destruction from the top of the stairs, Kenny by his side. "I don't understand it," he said. "I called Langley the minute you reported a problem on the main server. Why didn't we receive any help, or calls for back up data to be sent to Division?"

It wasn't a question the younger man could answer. "Maybe Langley have been hit too?" It was a long shot, and not one he believed could have feasibly occurred.

Hal shook his head. "No. It doesn't make sense. If they'd been hit, I mean, if that was the main aim of all this, then it would have happened right at the start."

"LA might have been hit."

"Yes, they might have. I can't get hold of anyone at the moment; phones are still dead."

"I've got a team working on that, sir."

Hal shook his head. "I can't help but feel that this is related to the transfer. First the girls are taken, and then this." He lowered his voice. "Between you and me, Kenny, it looks like one of the vehicles used to take the girls was a Langley vehicle."

Thompson's eyes widened. He had the sense to remain silent as a young field agent slipped past them and down the stairs, but as soon as they were alone once more he turned to face the Director. "Langley? Are they sure?"

"One hundred percent. Division knows about this; LA are still, I assume, sending everything to them, otherwise it will arouse suspicion. It's the only lead we have to go on. That," he muttered, "and this."

"You said you think it's related to the transfer?"

"Yes, I do. I need to speak with Buchanan-"

He was cut off by an excited yell from the floor. Taking the stairs two at a time, he and Thompson made for the comm. unit. "We've initiated contact with Los Angeles, sir," someone announced. "Seems our phones are back; we're just waiting for LA to pick up."

The team held their collective breath as the phone line crossed to the west coast. Unsurprisingly, Bill picked up after three rings. "CTU, Buchanan."

"Bill, this is Hal Turner. Have you been hit?"

"No, we haven't..." Static sounded across the wires. "... team working on recovering your lost data, hopefully we'll be able to interact with your agents now, get things happening a bit faster."

"Amanda's helping you?"

"Yes, she is, and she and Maria are fine... Hal, I can hardly hear you." The other man's voice faded and crackled as he struggled to make himself heard. "My agents will be on their way to you within the hour, as specified by Division." The line crackled a final time, and went dead. "Bill?" Hal shouted, but it was futile. "I'm going to try Langley," he told Kenny, marching back towards the stairs. "Make sure our people are liaising fully with the team in LA; I want this sorted."

xxx

Chloe followed Curtis and Tony dully out into the rear parking lot. The morning's sun had all but disappeared; a few stray, feeble rays visible through the heavy layer of cloud now coating the sky. "Turbulence will be bad," Curtis mused, not relishing the idea. Tony threw him a sideways glance. "You're telling me. The traffic will be bad enough, trying to get home through the rush hour and back here before anything else happens."

Chloe couldn't bring herself to join in their small talk. Their tones were light enough, and she envied them their ability to shut out their predicament, if only for a while. Or perhaps they were just better at dealing with it than she was. Everyone automatically assumed that she, being as she was the super bitch of CTU, would be the best at dealing with anything thrown at her. They were wrong. Inside, she was hurting. She'd conditioned her brain into accepting the situation; she had to go to Boston, and no amount of complaining was going to change that. But her heart... her heart was heavy. She hadn't gone yet and already she missed Jack. She'd grown so used to him being there, something she realised was stupid given the nature of the job. She wished she'd answered his earlier question, wished she hadn't seen the hurt in his eyes. It was to be a while before she could put that right.

"We'll meet back here," Tony was saying. Chloe realised that Curtis was gone, and she herself had walked right past her car. Tony frowned at her. "Chloe?"

"I'm fine, Tony. Yeah, we'll meet back here."

His eyes searched hers but found nothing. He wondered if Jack had told her of his decision, decided against asking. "I want to tell you this will be okay..."

Chloe scowled. "Just save your breath." She turned away from him and back to her own vehicle.

The traffic wasn't as heavy as Tony had predicted; Chloe followed him out of the lot, turning left when he indicated right. She looked in the rear view and saw him join the lane of cars waiting to cross on to the freeway. Curtis too would have taken that route; she was thankful at least for not having to endure that experience.

She pulled up at the house and stared blindly at it. Shutting off the engine, she remembered the day they'd moved in. She'd sold her apartment. He'd sold his, although he'd hardly been living there as it was, using it as an escape for whenever things with Audrey turned particularly bad. He'd moved in with her almost straight away, and they'd bought the house a year later. He'd carried her over the threshold; she'd screamed at him that it was bad luck, but he didn't care. Nor did she, not really. He'd simply held her tighter, and kissed her.

Her cell phone brought her out of her reverie. Cursing, she snapped it open. "O'Brian," she muttered, stepping finally out of the vehicle and slamming the door shut behind her.

"Hey, sweetheart." Jack's voice was quiet; she suspected he had retreated to his office, unable to offer much assistance to the floor teams as they sifted through intel and tried to help recover data from Boston. "I'm just waiting for Adamson to bring the team back in."

"Is he bringing Winter's body?" she asked, unlocking the front door and trying not to look around as she made her way up the stairs.

"Yes, he is. I'm going to go and have a look at it when they arrive; not much I can do to help on the floor," he added, confirming her earlier thoughts. "I miss you," he said softly, after a moment's silence during which Chloe had located her overnight bag and had started rummaging through her clothes. His words brought her to a stop; she hesitated over a pile of skirts, her eyes smarting. "I miss you too," she whispered, not bothering to chide him as was her customary tone. Finally settling on a skirt, she grabbed a few shirts from the closet and stuffed them in with it. "Don't take that sweater you're always wearing," he told her as she reached for a tatty blue cardigan draped across the edge of the bed. She smiled, even though he couldn't see her. "And why not?"

"Because I want something to remind me of you."

"Oh."

"I love you."

"I know you do." She blinked back her tears and finished loading her bag, the cardigan now folded over her arm. She would take it in for him, leave it in his office. There was no telling when he would next set foot in the house. Somewhere, a voice called his name. "Baby, I've got to go. Mike is back."

"Okay," she told him, adding an extra pair of shoes to the mix before zipping the bag closed. "I shouldn't be too long. I'm meeting Tony and Curtis in the parking lot."

"If Tony wasn't married I would be worried about that," Jack laughed, trying for humour.

"Curtis isn't married," she pointed out. "But I love _you, _so it doesn't matter."

"No, it doesn't." Another voice called his name, this one louder. "Right, I'm going now. I'll... I'll see you soon."

"Love you," she murmured, but he'd already disconnected the call.

xxx

"Mr. Almeida, are you sure it's okay to take Grace into work?" Twenty three year old Maddie hurried after Tony as he scooped the baby into his arms and returned to the car. "I've still got four hours left of my shift," she went on. Tony smiled. "Maddie, relax. Go home. We'll pay you these four hours."

Her face brightened. "So I'm not fired?"

"No, you're not fired. I just... we need Grace with us, is all. I'm going away on business for a while and Michelle is indefinitely detained at work so..." Tony trailed off, anxious to get going and aware of the shock now flooding the young girl's eyes. "Everything's fine, really," he went on, realising that she probably had very little idea as to what he and Michelle did for a living, and what she did know had probably been formed through late night news shows and day old newspapers. "Just lock the house for me, would you? I need to get back."

Maddie managed a small smile. "Okay, Mr. Almeida."

"It's Tony," he told her.

"Tony," she repeated quietly. "Well, I guess I'll see you then. Have a good trip." She stopped short of asking where he was going, and for that Tony was grateful. Making sure the baby was secured he offered Maddie a wave and climbed in behind the wheel. He knew his decision to bring his daughter into work was most likely a bad one, and Bill would call him on it, but he didn't want Michelle or Grace to be on their own.

"Daddy's going away for a while," he explained as he guided the car through the traffic and back onto the freeway. "I need you to look after Mommy for a while. Can you do that?" Grace beamed at him, her eyes drooping. Tony smiled. "That's what I thought."

xxx

"So far we've managed to recover about sixty percent of lost data from Boston, but we're still looking at another hour or so before we'll know for sure what's missing. It's slowing down now," Milo explained, his eyes flicking between Buchanan on his right and Amanda on his left, who was busy talking to one of her co-workers back in Boston. "We've got it under control, sir," he added, seeing a small weight lift from the older man's shoulders.

"Excellent. Great work, both of you." He continued on his way. "I'm going to check on Michelle, I'll be in the tech room if you need me." As he moved towards the rear hallways, Maria caught his attention. "Mr. Buchanan, I've had a good look at these field pictures and I can't find anything to add to what Curtis already found. There are no distinctive marks, only that the plates on the car he put us in are Government issue, which we already knew." She smiled apologetically. "I'm really sorry, sir. I wanted to find something else that we could work with."

"It's alright, Maria. Anything useful is being brought in now with the field teams. Thank you, though, for looking."

"Are the field teams bringing in Paul Winter's body?" she asked casually.

"Yes, they are. Jack's on his way down there now to see if they can pull anything off him; I gave strict instructions that the body not be searched until my forensic team had seen it."

"Could I help at all with that?"

"Michelle could use a hand, actually," Bill told her. "She's working to trace the owners of the two vehicles."

"Okay," Maria replied, pushing her disappointment to one side. "I'm on it." She stood and followed the Director as he walked through the back hallways of the building. She could hear the sound of voices as they neared what she soon saw to be a tech room. "Is the mortuary near here?" she asked.

"No, it's further that way," Bill replied, indicating. "My field teams are back, that's probably what the noise is."

Maria nodded and waited while he keyed in the door release code. The tall brunette appeared from behind a bank of computer screens. "We're retrieving data at a steady rate," she informed Buchanan. "I've been able to run a few searches on the cars but nothing concrete has turned up yet." Her eyes flicked to Maria and she smiled. "Hey, I'm Michelle Dessler."

"Maria Silver. I'm here to help, if I can."

"You definitely can," Michelle told her. "Is everything alright on the floor?" she enquired of Bill, who was turning to leave. "You'll come get me, won't you?"

"Of course I will." His tone was soft, and Maria saw the brief nod that passed between them. "Jack's with forensics now; that's the only lead we're working. Other than trying to get to the bottom of this damn system failure. Did you have any luck with Langley?"

"They're saying they don't know anything about it," Michelle replied tiredly. "No one called it in; it wasn't flagged. They're checking the call logs and getting back to us."

"Okay. Keep me posted." Bill keyed in the door code once more and slipped out of sight.

"You're not going to Boston, are you?" Maria followed Michelle over to the centre of the room and took a seat when offered. When Michelle shook her head, Maria went on, "We're not so convinced in Boston that it's such a good idea, this transfer."

"Nor are we," the other woman replied truthfully. "To be honest with you, I think they want to try anything they can to stop this thing. The system failure in Boston was deliberate; the attacks are going to continue in the same way, crippling each agency one by one."

"But we're getting data back," Maria pointed out.

"Not as much, or as fast, as we'd like. We're up to sixty eight percent complete. That's a lot of intel still missing." Her brown eyes bored into Maria's green ones, and the Boston agent looked away. "I know," she said quietly, the tension behind her eyes building.

xxx

Reeves took a moment to drink in the silence of the room. He'd been left with instructions, and he was going to make sure that he carried them out properly this time. He'd screwed up; this was his chance to make things right. He only hoped his slip up hadn't cost them both their jobs and their place in the group's plans.

He'd been assured that the logs had been changed. While he didn't trust him, Reeves knew he had little choice in the matter. He was a subordinate; it didn't matter in which context he looked at it. He had to do as told.

The next stage of the plan was something he'd hoped he'd get a chance to witness. It was always going to happen; there was just no guarantee who would be the one to put it in place. Now that it was him, he couldn't help but feel honoured at having been given the chance to prove himself to the rest of the group. Maybe he'd be kept on, after all.

He didn't have to speak to anyone; simply make a phone call, let it ring twice, and then hang up. They were expecting him. He was pleased when his fingers didn't slip on the phone's small keypad. Bringing the phone to his ear he let it ring once, twice. Disconnecting the call, he pocketed his cell once more and started for the door.

The slight _snick _behind him told him he'd been wrong.

xxx

Jack hovered impatiently while the forensic team busied themselves with setting up Winter's body. "Can't you guys go any quicker?" he muttered. His requested was ignored, and he muttered a curse under his breath just as the door clicked open and Buchanan stepped into the room. "Anything?" he asked.

"They've not started yet."

Bill rolled his eyes but said nothing. No one on the floor was equipped enough with the patience needed for forensics, least of all Jack. "I hope we get something off this guy."

"You and me both," Jack said quietly, watching the team intently.

"Just to let you know," Bill went on, "we've helped to recover approximately seventy percent of Boston's data. Maria couldn't find anything more on the field photographs, so she and Michelle are working on the cars, trying to see if we can find out who was renting the damn things."

"Is Chloe back yet?" Jack asked, his eyes meeting Bill's.

"No, she's not, but the car is waiting to take them. Their plane has already been cleared for take off," Buchanan told him gently. "Priority from Division. A private plane so I'm told."

"As long as it gets her there safely," Jack murmured.

"I'm sorry," Bill repeated. He paused. "May I ask whether you've told Chloe of your plans to leave CTU?"

The field agent turned his head back to the scene in front of them. "Yes, I have. She's thinking about it."

"I meant it, Jack, when I said I won't stop you."

"I know you won't. Thank you."

"Mr. Buchanan, Agent Bauer, come take a look at this."

The two men moved across to the mortuary slab. Paul Winter's eyes were closed, which was something of a blessing, but the twisted expression on his face was enough for Buchanan to turn away, disgusted. "What is it?"

"A wallet, sir, and a passport." The woman handed them each a small, clear plastic bag, one containing each item. "We'll dust them for prints, and then they're all yours. If you want to wait, it will only take a minute," she went on, plucking the bags once more from their hands and bustling away. Bill turned to Jack. "I need to speak to the driver and wait for Tony, Curtis and Chloe so I can brief them. As soon as you're done here, get the information to Milo and meet us in the rear parking lot. I'll get Michelle."

Jack nodded mutely, his attention now focussed on the forensic team as they painstakingly dusted Winter's possessions for prints. Bill placed a hand on his shoulder before turning and walking from the room.

Seconds later, the door opened again. Jack didn't look up, thinking Buchanan had forgotten something. "Agent Bauer?"

The voice was female. He recognised it as that of Maria Silver; frowning, Jack moved away from the slab and towards her where she lingered somewhat awkwardly in the door way. "Is everything alright?"

She indicated that he step out into the hall. Glancing behind him, Jack saw that the wallet and passport were almost ready. "This needs to be quick," he told her.

"Oh, I can't promise that," she said softly, reaching out a hand and placing it on his chest. He went to remove it but she pushed him back against the wall, her face inches from his. "I've been waiting to do this ever since I saw you. I know all about you, Jack Bauer. I know what you need." She pressed her lips to his, finding him non-responsive. Immediately, Jack grabbed her wrists and pushed her away, his breathing ragged with anger. "How dare you," he hissed, releasing her. "You know nothing about me."

Maria started to respond when hesitant footsteps alerted them to another presence in the hallway. Looking up, she saw the slight frame of the lead analyst as she stood only metres from them, apparently frozen to the spot.

"You have got to be kidding me," Maria laughed.

"Jack?"

"You're with _her_? Oh, please."

Jack tuned her out, his eyes focussed on Chloe, willing her to stay where she was. Her eyes were filled with hurt. In her arms he saw she carried the blue sweater he'd asked her to leave at home; at her feet was the bag she would be taking to Boston.

Maria shook her head incredulously. "Well, this is a surprise. I guess I should leave you two alone, seeing as you'll be leaving us soon," she added pointedly. She began walking away. "He's wasted on you, you know that, right?" she called as a parting shot.

As soon as they were alone, Jack took a slow step towards her. She stayed where she was.

"Chloe-"

She frowned. "She kissed you."

"Tried to."

"I've always been scared of losing you," she admitted quietly, biting down hard on her lower lip. "She's right, I guess. You are wasted on me. She's beautiful, and I'm-"

"Stop it." He raised his voice, his anger clear. "Don't let her put you down."

She shrugged. "Bad habit." Her eyes dropped to the garment in her arms. "Milo told me you were down here; I went to your office first but you weren't there... I brought this for you." She held the sweater out to him; he didn't move. "I'll just go and leave it in your office, and then Mr. Buchanan is waiting for me so... the car's ready to take us," she added, picking up her bag and shouldering it.

Still he didn't move. A small part of his mind had tried to convince him that perhaps if he stayed right there he would be able to stop her from going. Maria wasn't the problem; she never had been. Chloe didn't want to go and Jack couldn't do anything to stop it; the whole situation was slipping further out of his control, had it been there in the first place, and Chloe was slowly but surely slipping away from him. She held his gaze defiantly, and he saw every single emotion flickering behind her eyes; hurt, fear, determination, frustration, sadness. He hadn't spoken and she wouldn't push him to do so. Bowing her head slightly, Chloe turned on her heel and made to walk away. He knew she'd done this in order to hide the tears in her eyes, the hard swallow to rid herself of the lump in her throat. She hadn't taken two steps when something inside him snapped and he ran forward, closing the distance between them and wrapping her in his arms, effectively turning her round as he did so. The bag slid to the floor with a thud; ignoring this she raised her head to meet his and kissed him fiercely, over and over. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. She shook her head, understanding as she always did. "It's okay, Jack. We're okay. I love you."

"I shouldn't have let you walk away," he told her, pressing feather soft kisses to her forehead, and she wasn't sure if he was referring to the present, or a moment two years earlier, when he had kissed her for the very first time. It had been a stolen moment, much like the one they now found themselves in. Except then, they'd had no idea of what was waiting around the corner for them. This time they were at more of an advantage, and he was equally powerless to stop it. She felt his helplessness, understood then just why he wanted to leave CTU. The timing was wrong, but really, there was never going to be a right time. It just wasn't that sort of job. He wanted the chance to protect her, something he knew he didn't need to do. Say yes now and she could quite possibly be putting the whole mission in jeopardy; she would be making a promise she didn't know she could keep. Boston would detain her indefinitely; he didn't deserve to have his hopes brought up, only to be shot back down.

"It doesn't matter any more," she soothed, and he knew she was right. "I was never very far away." His eyes met hers and any doubts as to which situation he had been referring to were quashed. "No, you weren't," he agreed, capturing her lips once more. Her cell phone began to ring, forcing them apart. "Mr. Buchanan," she muttered, eyeing the caller ID. As she flipped the phone open, the door into the mortuary swung open and the woman Jack had been talking to earlier appeared before them. "Paul Winter's wallet and passport, Agent Bauer," she called. Jack reluctantly moved away from Chloe and back up the hallway. Taking each item, he asked, "Anything else?"

She shook her head. "That was all he was carrying on him. The weapon was already recovered at the scene, as were the car keys." She sighed. "We'll do the usual, but I don't think we'll get anything else."

Jack managed a smile. "Thanks," he told her, and she nodded briefly, stepping back into the room and closing the door behind her. Jack walked over to Chloe, who had reclaimed her bag and slung it over her shoulder once more. "Winter's things?" she enquired as they walked slowly back to the bullpen.

"Yeah." He took the wallet out of its clear bag and flipped through it. "There's a landline phone number here; someone named Reeves. I'm going to get Milo to run it."

"At last, something to go on."

"I sure hope so, sweetheart," he replied.

They found Milo deep in conversation with the Boston agents as they re-entered the bullpen and crossed to the comm. unit. Maria eyed Chloe with distaste, but remained silent while Jack explained to Milo what he needed him to do.

"This is good," the analyst commented as Jack handed over the items. "Michelle and Maria found a name on the car; a Jonathan Reeves," he went on. "No address, though, so with a bit of luck we'll get something from this." He turned his gaze to Chloe. "I'm going to miss you," he said sincerely.

"I'm sure you are," Chloe muttered, but she was smiling.

"Michelle and Buchanan are already out there," Milo told them. "I'll see you when you get back, Chloe."

Amanda got to her feet. "It was nice to meet you, Chloe, even it was only for five minutes."

"You too," Chloe replied.

"Same here," Maria muttered.

"Okay, I'll be back in a few minutes," Jack told them, tucking his hand into Chloe's and nodding at Milo. "I'll do what I can," the younger man called back.

"I've still got this stupid thing," Chloe muttered moments later, as they found themselves alone in the hallway leading to CTU's rear exit. She held up the sweater and Jack smiled. "Let me have it," he said, and she handed it over, watching as he clutched it tightly in his free hand. "I didn't know when you'd be able to go home again," she shrugged, stepping past the security station and through the door Jack held open for her.

They found the rest of the team waiting for them beside a large black SUV. Its engine was off, rather than idling. Buchanan was talking to the driver but broke away as he spotted the final department heads approaching. "Jack, Chloe," he called, smiling tiredly.

"Sorry to have kept you, Mr. Buchanan."

"Forensics handed over the wallet and passport; I was just briefing Milo," Jack explained. The incident with Maria did not need to be mentioned. He looked to Michelle. "Milo told me you and Maria pulled a name off the car details; we're hoping for a match with a phone number in Winter's wallet."

Michelle nodded. "That's right. Jonathan Reeves. He was renting both cars; I'm having Milo run his name through an inter agency database."

"If he's Langley, we'll soon know," Curtis said darkly.

A high pitched gurgle broke through the charged atmosphere. Looking up, Jack noticed for the first time that Tony was holding baby Grace in his arms. Not questioning his friend's motives for bringing his daughter into work, Jack left Chloe's side and walked towards Tony. Gently mussing the baby's head of fine, black hair, Jack waited as Tony passed Grace over to her mother before embracing the other man in a hug.

"Look after my girls, Jack," Tony said, his voice hoarse.

"I will," the field agent promised, slapping his friend lightly on the back as they broke apart. "You look after Chloe."

"You know I will."

A silent understanding flittered between them, and then Jack was moving back to Chloe, pulling her into his arms for a final hug. "I love you," he whispered, kissing her gently.

"I love you, too."

Buchanan had held back during the goodbyes; now he stepped forward and opened the back door of the vehicle. Inside, the driver brought the engine to life. "The plane is waiting; you'll have immediate take off. The flight time is approximately six hours, and there will be limited contact with both ourselves and Boston while you are in the air." He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a slip of paper. "This is Hal Turner's number," he explained, passing the note to Curtis. "Call me as soon as you touch down in Boston, and please, don't go getting into a car unless you're sure it's CTU." He'd meant the last comment as a joke, but no one smiled.

Tony was the first to get into the car, choosing instead to take the front rather than the back seat. He kissed first Michelle, and then Grace, before stepping to shake hands with Bill. As the car door slammed shut behind him, Curtis picked up his bag. He and Jack shared a quick hug; he kissed Michelle briefly on the cheek and shook Buchanan's hand as Tony had done before him.

Michelle moved closer to Jack as Chloe took a step away from them and towards the car. Curtis helped her with the bag, even though it wasn't heavy. She and Michelle embraced, and Buchanan shocked them all by tugging the petite analyst into his arms just as she got to the car. "Thank you, Chloe," he said softly. Chloe flushed. "It's fine, Mr. Buchanan."

She settled herself next to Curtis and closed the door. Bill spoke once more to the driver and then stood back as the vehicle started to inch forward. Beside him, Jack saw a tear slide down Michelle's cheek; he wrapped an arm around her shoulder despite the pain he too was feeling.

The four of them remained in the parking lot after the SUV had cleared the security gates and disappeared from view. Buchanan was reluctant to rush them back into the building; however work needed to be done and time, as was always the way, was not on their side. He dipped his head. "The sooner this thing is over the better," he muttered, and led the way back into the ever-darkening building behind them.

xxx

Kenny Thompson stepped into his office for the first time since that morning. His jacket was still where he had left it; thrown carelessly across the top of his paper-strewn desk. It was the end of the working day, but Kenny wasn't going anywhere. He'd just received a phone call from Bill Buchanan in Los Angeles to notify him that the west coast agents were on their way, and Turner still had him chasing Langley on the exact nature of the system crash.

They'd come back and said they'd rechecked their phone logs. Hal _had _called in. Someone _had _flagged the alert message.

"Then why the hell didn't anyone do anything about it?"

It was something the intern at the end of the line hadn't been able to tell him. Muttering, Kenny had hung up the phone and called LA. Seventy five percent recovered. It wasn't good enough. His own people were still struggling to bring the servers back up to date. The only thing that was clear, indeed the only thing that LA and Boston could agree on, was that the crash had come from the inside. Someone had needed to get into the system in order to shut it down. The fact that LA had traced the two cars involved in the hostage situation of that morning back to a mid level staffer in Langley only heightened further Kenny's unease. It was starting to look like someone in Langley was working against CTU, and if they were working against CTU, that meant they were working against the entire intelligence community. The thought chilled him.

He'd told Hal he was going to make a start on the paperwork he'd been evading all week. There was little else he could do while waiting for the LA team to arrive; the analysts had already told him in no uncertain terms that he was more a hindrance than a help to the data retrieval process.

As he settled himself behind his desk, his phone began to ring. He cursed. It wasn't an internal call, which meant his girlfriend was probably trying to call him. The same girlfriend he'd asked not to phone him at work unless it was urgent, although he knew his version of urgent varied widely from hers. Grabbing up the handset, he began to launch into his prepared speech of how the dry cleaning could wait, when an unfamiliar male voice cut through his spiel.

"Who is this?" Kenny demanded, senses on alert and wishing to God he was able to trace the call.

"You don't need to know that. All you need to know, Agent Thompson, is that there is a bomb underneath your building, set to go off within twenty minutes." The caller allowed themselves a short laugh, before abruptly bringing the call to an end. Stunned, Kenny wasted all of five seconds before throwing himself out of the chair, out of the office and down the stairs, calling for all available field agents to follow him.


	6. Chapter 5

_**Chapter Five**_

"Kenny, is there a reason why half my staff are on their hands and knees in the parking lot?" Hal pushed open the rear exit doors and strode towards the field agent, his tie flapping over his shoulder. The younger man turned and Hal froze at the panic he saw etched into his face. "Bomb?" he asked quietly, receiving the merest of nods in response. "Shit," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "Okay, I'll start an evac. Call the bomb squad-"

"Already done," Kenny informed him shakily, nodding as yet another car was deemed safe. "I don't even know _what _I'm looking for, or where, or when it's going to go off... okay, actually, he gave a time frame of twenty minutes."

"He?"

Kenny nodded. "Yes, and that's all I've got. No trace. I asked who he was and he told me I didn't need to worry about that... the guy knew my name, though," he added quietly. He turned to face the Director. "You start the evac. We don't know where the hell this thing is; the sooner we start the better-"

"Kenny, the lot's clear."

Both men looked up at this, frowning. Together, they walked towards the agent who had shouted for their attention. "Are you sure?" Hal demanded, taking a slightly more abrupt tone than he would normally have done. The young woman nodded. "Sure. All vehicles checked, scanned, searched... all security cameras checked." She shrugged. "Unless it's not even _in _the parking lot, then it's not here. And I can't think where else it could be," she went on, gesturing helplessly around her at the vast expanse of parking lot. "There's nothing else under here."

They were as low as they could get; even the tech rooms and living areas were above them. Hal nodded grimly. "Okay, Tracey." Raising his voice, he called for a complete halt. Agents gathered round, wiping dirt from their once clean clothes. "Seems there isn't a bomb down here. Kenny, how much time do we have?"

"Ten minutes."

"Right. I still want to do an evacuation. Kenny, Tracey, start clearing all areas of the building... assemble in the usual place. We'll give this son of a bitch an extra five minutes, and then we're coming back in." As his team dispersed, Turner grabbed Kenny's arm, gesturing for him to hold back. Once alone, Hal lowered his voice. "This doesn't seem right to me, Kenny. People who want to bomb Government buildings do not give twenty minute advanced warnings. We'll get our people out of here, but this seems to me like a diversionary attack. I'm going to call Buchanan."

"You think this is related maybe to the cars? If Langley knew about the bomb, wouldn't they phone us themselves?"

Hal smiled coldly. "Not unless they're the ones planting it."

xxx

Michelle broke away from Bill and Jack, promising to return as soon as she'd settled Grace in the on site crèche. Bill had nodded in understanding, continuing on his way towards the comm. unit. "I can't blame Tony for bringing the baby in," he said to Jack, watching as Michelle disappeared around the corner. "Although I have to wonder how safe it is for her."

"Safer here with her mother than at home with a baby sitter," Jack muttered, Chloe's sweater still clutched firmly in his hand. He didn't meet Buchanan's gaze as the older man frowned at him, keeping his attention focussed on the small group gathered at the comm. unit. Milo glanced up as they approached, evidently relieved at their return. Knowing better than to question what had taken place in the parking lot, he cleared his throat and held up Paul Winter's wallet. "We've got an address," he told them. "It's for Jonathan Reeves, who, as you know, is the guy who rented out both cars involved in this morning's hostage situation."

"He's a mid level Langley staffer," Amanda went on. "We contacted Langley, spoke to someone named Bryan Fisher... he said he knows of Reeves and that he will be suspended, effective immediately. They'll take him into custody for questioning."

Buchanan nodded. "Great work. Jack, take a team and head out to this address. See if you can find anything at all relating to Langley, or anyone else Reeves might be working with. A mid level staffer at Langley can't be working alone."

"Where does Paul Winter fit into this?" Maria asked.

"All we can assume at the moment is that Reeves contacted Winter, in an attempt to get into both our systems and Boston's systems. Winter is dead; this doesn't mean that these guys were the only two involved," Bill responded. "Boston's systems are still crippled. Until we get more of a handle on that, we can't be certain of anything."

Jack moved away from them, his strides determined. He took the stairs quickly to his office, placing the sweater lovingly across the back of his desk chair, before turning and making his way back down to the floor. He would only take a small team. Had Tony or Curtis been there he wouldn't have hesitated in requesting their help; as it was he would have to select the best field operatives they had. He approached the small, walled off area towards the far end of the floor, where his team were nestled away from the general day to day running of the agency. All six men looked up at his approach.

"We've got an address on Jonathan Reeves," Jack told them. "Adamson, Scott, you're with me." The two agents got to their feet. "Jack, I've got a report to send to Division on that hostage situation," Mike informed him. "You know I wouldn't let you down, Jack, but this needs to go and I can't get anyone else to sign off on it."

Jack clenched his jaw, knowing that the report couldn't wait. His gaze flicked to a younger, newer recruit sitting at the desk to the right of Adamson. "Hodges, you were with us this morning, weren't you?" The agent nodded. "Good. Finish off Mike's report, get Buchanan to sign it. We need to move on this thing," he muttered, glaring pointedly at Adamson. Mike held up his hands in defeat, but stepped aside, motioning for the younger agent to take his seat. Wordlessly, he followed Jack and Scott down the corridor and into the arms room.

xxx

"Jack just left the building," Milo shouted, spotting Buchanan halfway up the stairs to his office. "He took Scott and Adamson."

"Is that all?"

"Yes. Oh, and Hal Turner phoned again... he sounded pissed off and wanted you to call him back on his cell."

Bill frowned, but merely thanked Milo and pushed on up the stairs, opening his office door and stepping through it. The red light on his answering machine indicated that he had three missed calls, all of them no doubt from the irate Boston Director. Sighing heavily, Buchanan seated himself behind his desk and picking up the phone, dialled across three time zones.

"You know as much as I do, Hal," he began, as soon as the call was picked up. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't take out your frustrations on my staff; we're as much in the dark here as you are there-"

"Bill, we just had a bomb threat."

Buchanan's senses were instantly alerted. "Just a threat?"

"One of my agents received a call detailing that a bomb was underneath the building; we conducted a sweep and there's nothing there."

"Did the caller give a specific time frame?"

"Yes. Twenty minutes. This was almost fifteen minutes ago." Hal paused. "Have you received the same phone call? I'm thinking it's either a wind up, to throw us off the case for a few minutes, or they called the wrong agency-"

"-thinking we wouldn't find out. My God," Bill muttered. "Hal, I've got to start an evac. Now. There's no time to send our intel to you, and we're still only seventy percent or so complete on your system retrieval..." He trailed off. "I think we might have hit on something with Langley," he said darkly.

"I think you're right. Look, go, evacuate your building. You've only got about five minutes. Screw the intel; without the people, there's no one to process the damn stuff anyway." Bill caught the fear behind the other man's voice. "Call me, if you can... I'll notify Division, we'll continue working what we've got here... just _go._"

Bill hung up and pushed back his chair. The situation required him to be calm, yet he could not help the panic racing through his veins. Taking a deep breath, he reached for the small grey box on the corner of his desk and pressed 'talk.'

"This is a direct order. You are to evacuate the building immediately. I repeat, evacuate now." He didn't need to mention a bomb; his staff knew the drill. Except, this wasn't a drill. Opening the door to his office, he glanced down at the floor to see agents filing towards all available exits. The comm. unit was unmanned; Milo would have known that there was no time to even consider backing up their intel. All they could hope is that it wouldn't be a bad hit, or that they wouldn't be hit at all.

Buchanan positioned himself in the centre of the floor, turning people away from their belongings and urging them to hurry up. He cast an eye towards Michelle's station, found it empty. Jack was out of the building; he debated contacting him, decided against it. He was more use to them out in the field. As Bill watched people rush past him, he wondered fleetingly whether one of the messages on his answering machine had in fact been a warning... he pushed that to one side almost as soon as it entered his head. They weren't meant to have had a warning. Whoever this was wanted everyone inside the building when it blew. Hal Turner hadn't mentioned a trace on the call he'd received; Buchanan could only assume that there hadn't been time to conduct one. The thought that someone from within Langley would be working against them was not a pleasant one, yet the evidence surrounding first the cars, and then the body of Paul Winter, was valid.

Hal had given them just shy of five minutes. There were still ten seconds to go when the bomb exploded.

xxx

"I should warn you, I don't travel very well," Chloe muttered, settling herself down almost gingerly and buckling her seat belt. Her eyes scanned the small interior of the cabin. The flight was a private one, the plane having been commissioned from Division specifically for the purpose of transporting them to Boston. Theirs were the only three seats, aside from the lone chair at the rear of the plane for the single crew member on board. Chloe sighed heavily. It was going to be a long flight.

To her right, and a little in front, Curtis twisted in his seat and offered her a smile. "Don't worry about it, Chloe. I don't fly so well, either."

She shrugged. "Nothing we can do about it though, right? Just thought I'd give you a warning."

Tony heaved his bag into the overhead locker and took the last remaining seat, behind his co-workers. "Curtis, you've made this trip before. Any chance of it taking less than six hours?"

Curtis nodded. "Could be lucky, if the weather's good... might be five."

Chloe snorted but said nothing.

"You know," Tony mused, ignoring Chloe's outburst, "I can't help but think that they made a mistake sending the both of us, Curtis. I mentioned it to Michelle but she talked me out of it... still, it doesn't make sense."

As Curtis opened his mouth to respond, the engines roared to life, filling the cabin with a sudden noise. "I guess they had their reasons," he replied. "We'll find out in Boston. Could be because we've both got field training."

"We can't second guess them," Chloe muttered. "I mean, we never thought this would happen, and it has."

The men exchanged a concerned glance, watching as Chloe retrieved a set of head phones from her purse and jammed them in her ears. "Two years," Tony mouthed in response to Curtis's frown. It took the other agent a moment to process the information over the noise, but finally he nodded, understanding. Unable to communicate with Tony further, he turned back around in his seat, his mind returning to the newspaper article he'd seen that morning.

Audrey Raines was pleading for a retrial. Two years ago the judge had stopped short of labelling her crimes as 'treason', describing them instead as the acts of a 'misguided, misinformed and troubled soul.' Curtis could still remember his reaction to that. Audrey Raines was anything but misguided. She'd known what she was doing. Her own father had refused to help her, which meant that the retrial was her own doing. While nothing had been said about it, Curtis had no doubt that Jack and Chloe were all too aware of the situation. The two of them hadn't been apart in all that time. The fact that Chloe was being sent across the country was only serving to hurt them even more. Glancing back over his shoulder, Curtis saw Chloe peering out of the small window beside her, her expression unreadable.

"You should be able to use your cell phones now," the pilot informed them over the crackle of the loud speaker. Sighing, Curtis reached into his pocket and retrieved his phone, switching it on to find a garbled message from Division. "Tony, you getting the same thing?" he asked, turning once more and waving his cell at the other agent.

Tony nodded, frowning. "I can't make sense of it. It's encrypted."

"Oh, let me see," Chloe muttered, pulling her head phones away in frustration and grabbing Tony's phone out of his proffered hand. "How can a text message be encrypted... oh, shit."

"What? It's not some kind of bug, is it?"

Chloe was silent for a moment, jabbing random keys in a sequence that made sense only to her. "It's meant to be like this," she murmured finally. "The only reason they would send it like this is if we'd been compromised."

"Something must have happened on the ground," Curtis muttered.

"Question is," Tony went on, "has it affected LA, or Boston? And what the hell is it?"

"I can't quite unscramble it from up here," Chloe said. "But I think I can make a few words out... okay, it's Los Angeles... evacuate... _bomb_."The phone slid from her hand. "Oh, my God. We've been hit." Her eyes met first Tony's, and then Curtis's. The fear and tension in the cabin was palpable, and they were thousands of metres up in the air, powerless to help.

xxx

"This doesn't look very lived-in to me," Mike Adamson muttered, as he slammed yet another drawer shut and moved down to the next one. "Not many clothes in the closet, for a start."

"And no food in the refrigerator," called Scott from the kitchen.

"This is only a temporary address, that's why," Jack informed them, spying a laptop on an otherwise sparse desk and moving towards it. "It's rented. It was only address linked to the phone number in Winter's wallet."

"You're telling me a guy can live like this?" Mike asked incredulously.

"No, Mike, I'm saying that he probably has an apartment somewhere else, and it's our job to try and find out where." Jack shot the other man a pointed look as he settled himself at the desk and started the laptop. "I'm going to see if there's anything on this that might help us."

"Downstairs is clear; absolutely nada in the kitchen," Scott announced, returning to the living room empty handed. "I would guess that he's got a house somewhere else, not an apartment. I mean, this place can't be cheap."

"Langley must pay well," Mike quipped. Straightening, he held up his hands. "Nothing. We'll go check upstairs... or do you want a hand with that?" he asked, seeing Jack struggling with the computer. Jack nodded. "Scott, you go check upstairs. I could use some help, thanks, Mike."

The younger agent disappeared out into the hall, his footsteps receding up the plush carpeted stairs. "He's got a point, Jack. This is a nice house," Mike said, perching on the edge of the desk and pulling the laptop towards him. "Jeez, you haven't even clicked on any files yet," he admonished, moving the mouse towards the start menu. "Okay, so where should we start... ah, yes. 'Personal' looks like it might be it."

Jack watched, mildly annoyed, as Adamson opened file after file, each bringing up a blank screen. "Could they be encrypted?" he asked, rubbing his temples.

"Nah, they're just blank." Mike moved the arrow to another box, opened it. "Now this could be something- oh, damn it, that's my cell phone," he muttered, standing up and rummaging in his jacket pocket. Jack frowned but soon found himself doing the same. Above them, Scott moved about, occasionally uttering a curse. "I can't make any sense of this, Jack," Mike commented, showing the other agent his cell phone. "It's an encrypted text message."

"I've got the same," Jack muttered.

"Maybe it's a bug?"

"No, it's not." Scott appeared before them, his face ashen. At once Jack got to his feet, alarm bells ringing. "What is it?" he demanded. "What's going on? Is this a trap?"

Scott shook his head. "No. We're okay. But... it's CTU. They've been bombed."

"Bombed?"

"Yes! This is an encrypted message from Division. They only do this when they think we've been compromised. I can't make out the full message and only people with the correct training can decrypt it properly," Scott explained, shaking his head in amazement. "What the hell is going on here, guys?"

"I wish I knew," Jack replied, returning to the laptop. Not bothering to sit down, he typed a command into the keyboard and waited. "Damn it!" he shouted, pushing the machine away from him moments later. "That thing's got nothing on it. And even if it has, we'll need to take it in to CTU." His eyes flicked to Scott, who was motionless in the doorway. "What about upstairs?"

"Haven't finished yet."

Jack nodded. "Right. Let's all go and finish upstairs. We'll take this," he added, unplugging the computer and tucking it under his arm. "Come on."

The three men worked in grim silence, not daring to voice the thoughts that we no doubt flying through each of their heads. A search of the bathroom found nothing, as did a sweep of the spare bedroom. "Does this guy not even keep a _diary?_" Adamson muttered.

"Found something!" Scott called finally, holding up what looked like a transcript of some kind. On closer inspection, Jack saw that it was in fact a log of several phone conversations between Reeves, and a man named Bryan Fisher. "This is good," he said, scanning the pages briefly but knowing that they would need a more in depth analysis. "This guy must have been nervous if he wanted to cover his back like that."

"Someone else from Langley, do you think?" Mike asked.

"Can't be sure until we get it checked." Jack didn't add that he wasn't sure _how _they were going to check it. "I don't want to send it to Division unless we have to." He paused, something clicking in the back of his mind. "Hold on," he said. "The name is familiar. Amanda Amos said that she'd contacted Langley about Reeves, and spoken to a guy named Bryan Fisher."

"It must be the same guy," Scott observed.

Jack nodded. "Yes, and he told Amanda that Reeves would be removed for questioning..." he trailed off. "If Fisher's in on it too, which it looks like, then Reeves hasn't been removed at all. In which case, we are dealing with something a lot bigger than we originally thought."

"Or he has been removed, just not in the conventional way," Mike finished darkly.

Scott paled but continued in his search of the room. "We should probably take the phone... it's got an answer phone on it," he noted. Jack stepped towards him. "Just take the tape out of the machine. We can run it back at CTU." He turned to Mike. "Anything else?"

Adamson nodded. "Got what looks like car rental details," he called back. "This confirms that the car was in fact in Reeves' named... there's even a Langley seal on this," he added, his voice taking on a note of subtle panic. "Means he's been here recently."

"Nothing else here, Jack," Scott added, rejoining them.

Jack scanned the room, making sure they'd checked everything. Laptop still under his arm, he turned and led the way back down the stairs.

xxx

Hal eyed the bullpen warily. His agents were reseating themselves at their stations, only a few precious minutes lost. He'd contacted Buchanan from the evacuation point; he'd had no further contact with the Los Angeles team.

He'd phoned Division as a precaution, although they were going to find out soon enough. He stood by what his earlier statement to Kenny; a warning was not the customary procedure for the bombing of a Government building. If Division had known, they weren't going to let on. Although Hal suspected that this went beyond Division, and the Regional Directors were just as much pawns in this game as he and the Los Angeles team were.

"Sir, we've just received a status report from the pilot transporting the LA agents." Tracey appeared at his side. "They're estimating a five hour journey."

"All this time wasting," Turner muttered. "Five hours to transfer agents."

"Doesn't make sense to me either, sir," she commented, moving away.

"No," Hal murmured to himself. "No, it definitely doesn't make sense." He frowned. The lack of communication was frustrating, but he and Bill had done what they could. LA were working up a lead; Boston were recovering what they could of their own intel. So far no-one had been able to get into the LA servers to check what sort of damage they were looking at. Hal felt powerless. Aside from the phone call to Kenny, the group behind this had made no effort to contact them. It was as though they were deliberately keeping them hanging. He almost wished something would happen; anything to give them a clue or a heads up. The Director reached into his pocket and pulled out the list Division had faxed him detailing which agents were to be flying over.

He recognised one name. Jack Bauer. Hal had heard all about the field agent's troubled past, yet equally he knew this was the best the agency had to offer. According to Buchanan, Bauer had handed in his notice; this was to be his last assignment. Turner couldn't help but wonder why Bauer would agree to this if he knew he could stay in Los Angeles and retire quietly from active duty. On the other hand, he reflected, even if Jack hadn't agreed, he would have been involved in this one way or another.

His cell phone rang, and Hal flipped it open immediately, praying to hear Bill Buchanan on the other end. "CTU, Hal Turner," he barked impatiently.

"Mr. Turner, this is Bryan Fisher from Langley."

Immediately, Hal felt his hackles rise but he fought to keep his temper. "Yes, Mr. Fisher? Do you have any news on Los Angeles?"

"No, no sir, we don't." Fisher cleared his throat. "I do however need to ask you if you'd managed to recover all of your lost data from earlier this afternoon?"

"No, we haven't." Hal sighed deeply. "We were working with LA to recover the intel. We don't know what state they're in; they've lost information too I don't doubt." He paused. "I would assume that all intel has been lost."

"Okay, sir. Thank you."

"Hey, hold on a minute. I wanted to speak to you guys about a phone call I placed earlier, regarding my system failure. Before my systems crashed, I placed a call to you guys. You came back and said that my call had not been flagged, yet when my third in command phoned back, he was told that the call had in fact been received, logged _and _flagged. Could you tell me what's going on there?"

"Perhaps a system glitch, sir."

"Well, I don't think now's the time to be having system glitches, do you, Mr. Fisher?"

An irritated sigh on the other end. "Look, Mr. Turner. We rechecked the logs. Your call was flagged first time. I guess that whoever checked it for you first time just missed it."

"Yeah. Look, if that's all?"

"Sure, sir."

Hal hung up and cursed several times. "Kenny!" he called, motioning for the field agent to join him. Kenny moved away from the comm. unit and regarded the Director curiously. "I just spoke with a Bryan Fisher at Langley. He wanted to know if we'd lost all intel. I told him to assume that yes, we have." He lowered his voice. "I also kept on at him about this phone call that wasn't flagged from earlier. He tried to pass it off as a system glitch." He smiled grimly. "Check this guy's name through the system, will you? Use my security codes; no-one unnecessary needs to see this." Hal handed the younger man his access cards; wordlessly Thompson pocketed them. "Oh, and one more thing. This phone call you received about the bomb... you say you didn't get a name?"

Kenny shook his head.

"This is too similar to be a coincidence."

"How do you mean?"

"I mean, Kenny, that our phone call isn't flagged, but then we get contacted about a bomb that's going off in LA, and LA gets no warning whatsoever? No request to back up their data?" He raised his eyebrows, saw the younger man's eyes flicker in understanding. "And then Langley phones us to see if we've lost all our intel? See what I'm getting at?"

"Yes."

"This might finally be the lead we've been waiting for," he said quietly. "Go run that name, and let me know what you find. This guy Fisher's involved; I just don't know how."

xxx

Something fell, presumably the news screen, creating a final crash in what had become a relatively silent moment following the explosion. Buchanan groaned, heaving a discarded piece of what had once been a desk from over him and clambering slowly to his feet. Rubbing the dirt from his eyes, he blinked several times to clear his vision, scanning the floor as he did so and noting nothing of immediate alarm. His team, by some miracle, had made it out alive. As the Director, he'd had to remain in the building as a precaution; his workers were the priority. Taking first one and then another step forward, Bill picked his way across the debris strewn floor, testing his legs for any sign of injury and finding none. On a first sweep, the floor appeared completely destroyed, but as he moved forward he saw that some areas had escaped relatively unscathed. As he moved towards the main doors, he found himself wondering if the bomb had perhaps been strategically placed; one look at the comm. unit confirmed his suspicions. With a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach, the Director took in the twisted metal and shards of plastic that had served as the hub of his agency. It was gone. Ruined. The computers beyond any hope of restoration.

"Someone must have had schematics."

Bill turned. "Milo! Thank God." He held up his hands in despair. "Luckily everyone got out but the comm. unit is ruined. Everything we had is gone."

The analyst shook his head. From his position by the door, he had to raise his voice slightly to be heard. "No, sir. I was able to put a precautionary backup mode into play. Everything should be safe providing the main servers aren't too damaged, and Michelle, Amanda and I can work on those."

Bill closed his eyes briefly, not daring to allow the wave of relief to wash over him just yet at the younger man's words. "How is everyone?" he asked finally.

"Amanda and Maria are fine; they're out front. I couldn't see everyone out there but... well, I think you got everyone out, sir. We've got quite a crowd gathering," he added wryly.

Buchanan managed a small smile. "I imagine we have. Hold on. Milo, you say Amanda and Maria are safe?"

"Yes. Maria was walking by the crèche when the announcement was given; she also helped to get Grace Almeida out safely, too. But we can't find Michelle... oh, shit," he trailed off, seeing the colour fade from the Director's cheeks. "You don't think...?"

"I don't know, Milo. I don't even know where she was."

The sound of the door opening once more caused both men to turn. Jack stopped just beyond Milo, his eyes scanning the floor in horror and disgust. "My men are waiting outside with everyone else," he began. "Did everyone get out?"

"We don't know where Michelle is," Buchanan admitted.

"You don't know? How can you not know?"

"Jack," Milo muttered. "Come on, we had like a five minute warning."

Jack flicked his gaze to Buchanan, who nodded. "Boston received a call stating a bomb was to be detonated beneath their building. A sweep was conducted and nothing was found. It was only because of a heads up from Hal that I managed to evacuate the building when I did, otherwise..."

A grim silence fell between the men. It was Jack who spoke first. "Okay. We get all able personnel to come in and help look for Michelle-"

"I don't know how safe the building is. We can't let everyone back in at once."

"What about Grace?"

"Maria got her out," Milo replied. He pushed up his sleeves. "I vote that the three of us just start looking now, before... well, you know. I think we should just start." He moved away from Jack and began lifting various pieces of scattered metal. Buchanan pressed a hand to his temple. "Start digging," he ordered Jack, removing his dust covered jacket and joining Milo.

The field agent picked his way across to the general area of Michelle's station, a part of the floor just inside the 'safe' zone. The rubble here was relatively light, but he began tugging at the wreckage and throwing it aside, his earlier promise to Tony ringing in his ears. He'd tried getting through to Chloe but kept getting a busy signal. The flight hadn't long been in the air; he wondered whether or not Buchanan would order it turned around. From the look of the floor, the hit had been specifically targeted. Langley wouldn't be likely to return the plane... Jack paused momentarily, feeling the panic beginning to creep in at the corners of his mind.

"Over here!" Milo yelled suddenly. "I see her; she's stuck underneath this... _thing._ I can't move it!" he called helplessly.

Buchanan and Jack pushed their way quickly towards him. "Take that end," Milo ordered, pointing. "Mr. Buchanan, if you lift just there... okay, on three." He counted it out and they lifted, barely clearing the floor. "Again!" Jack shouted. The remains of what now appeared to be the news screen buckled beneath their combined weight; with a third and final effort they lifted it away and threw it somewhere behind them. Milo crouched down and began clearing the various shards of glass and lumps of rock that had once been the wall. "If that hadn't fallen she wouldn't have been trapped," Buchanan said, his breathing slightly laboured. "It fell just after the explosion."

Milo glanced up. "She doesn't look so great."

Joining him, Jack pressed a finger to her throat. "She's got a very weak pulse. Damn it!" He ran a hand through his hair. "She needs a hospital, Bill. Now. She could be bleeding internally, or have broken something." Tony's face flashed into his mind and he pushed it aside. "I'll call an ambulance."

Buchanan grasped Michelle's hand tightly as Milo continued to remove the debris from around her. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. Her face remained still, her eyes closed. "We'll get you better, I promise."

"It's not your fault, sir," Milo offered.

True or not, Milo's words failed to offer any comfort. "Five minutes out," Jack announced suddenly. He kept his cell phone in his hand. "We need to start getting our people back in here, Bill."

"I already said to you that the building probably isn't safe," Bill warned.

"Then let's get a damn structural engineer and the fire department down here."

"Already here, sir."

Buchanan got once more to his feet. "Who called you?" he demanded of the tall, slightly stooped man now making his way towards him, a yellow hard hat on his head.

"I'm with the fire department. We were dispatched as soon as the building went down. There should also be several ambulances on their way."

Bill shook his head to clear it. "Of course. I'm sorry. Bill Buchanan; I'm the Director of Operations here. I need you to tell me if this building is safe for my agents to work in."

"On first glance, Mr. Buchanan, I'd say no."

"Then make it safe," Jack muttered.

"Sir, with all due respect-"

"Just do it." He turned to Bill. "We managed to retrieve a laptop from Reeves' address. I'm going to set up a team in one of the back up cabins, see if they can get anything off it. Milo, what's the state of the server?"

"I don't know."

"Jack, take Amanda and work up this laptop. Milo, you and Maria go check out the tech room." Bill held up a hand as the structural engineer began to voice his disapproval. "I'm going to stay with Michelle until the ambulance gets here, and then conduct a search for anyone else. I'm going to need as much help as I can get."

xxx

The crowd of onlookers was, for the moment, being successfully held back by a handful of agents. As Jack and Milo stepped out into the weak sunlight of the late afternoon, they were amazed to see media crews assembling just across the street. "Those people make me sick," Milo muttered. "Michelle's hurt and all they can do is stand there and take pictures." He looked at Jack. "You alright? Have you been able to get hold of Tony?"

"I can't get through to any of them," Jack replied, locating the Boston agents in the crowd and making his way towards them, sighing with relief when he saw baby Grace safely in Maria's arms. "I don't want to tell Tony just yet, until we know what the doctors can do for her."

"Probably a good move," Milo agreed.

They reached Amanda and Maria, Jack holding his arms out for the baby. Maria handed her over, and the three watched as Jack kissed the little girl's head, his eyes closing just briefly. "Thank you," he told Maria. She shrugged. "It was nothing. Where's Michelle?"

"She's badly hurt. Buchanan's with her now, then he's going to conduct a search of the building for anyone else."

Amanda paled. "Will she be alright?"

"It's too early to tell," Milo said quietly.

"We picked up a lead at the Reeves' address; we need your help in working it up." Jack steadied his voice. "Maria, you go with Milo and bring the server back up. Hopefully there hasn't been too much damage to it. Amanda, you and I are going to work from one of the remote cabins. Adamson's waiting with a laptop we need to check out."

"What can I do about the server? I don't know that kind of stuff," Maria pointed out.

The men exchanged a look. "Okay. Fine. Milo, take Amanda. It'll probably be quicker that way. We'll probably be alright with the laptop but stay in contact," Jack conceded.

"You got it," Milo replied, moving swiftly away and back towards the building, a worried looking Amanda in tow.

"Oh, and Milo?"

"Yeah?"

Jack reached inside his jacket as best he could and handed the analyst a clear bag containing the answering machine tape and the copy of the phone conversations found at the location. "Work these up, too. They're calls between Reeves and a man named Bryan Fisher."

"I spoke to a Bryan Fisher, from Langley," Amanda said.

"Yes," Jack nodded. "I remember you saying. Run a check on this guy."

"Okay." Another nod and the two disappeared into the crowd.

"I do hope Michelle's going to be alright," Maria offered as she and Jack made their way towards the remote cabins around the back of the building. She looked down at her feet. "Listen, Jack, about earlier... I'm sorry. I had no right."

"No, you didn't."

"You really love her, don't you?"

Jack was silent as he shifted Grace from one arm to the other. "Yes," he said finally. In his pocket, his cell phone started to ring. Retrieving it, he glanced at the caller ID, his voice wobbling slightly as he turned to Maria. "Will you hold Grace?" he asked.

She smiled. "Sure."

Quickly but gently transferring the baby across, Jack flipped open his cell phone. "Sweetheart," he greeted, falling behind Maria just slightly. "I've been trying to get hold of you."

"Same here," Chloe told him. "We got a text message and we didn't know... you're okay, right? You're not speaking to me from a hospital bed, are you?"

Jack laughed weakly. "No, sweetheart. I'm fine. I was out in the field, following up a lead." He paused. "Baby, I need you to keep this to yourself."

"Jack, you're worrying me."

"Chloe, something's happened to Michelle. She was hurt in the explosion but Grace is okay. I need you to not tell Tony until I know for sure what's going on at the hospital. Can you do that?"

"You know I can. But hurry, Jack. He's going crazy up here."

Again, his friend's face flashed before his eyes. "I know." In front of him, Maria stopped. "That way," he told her, indicating right. "Sorry?" Chloe asked.

"I'm talking to Maria; we're working up a laptop we found at Reeves' address."

"Did you find anything concrete?"

"Yes. We found copies of telephone conversations between Reeves and a man named Bryan Fisher. Amanda spoke with him earlier; he's Langley. I've got Milo checking him out now- Chloe? Are you still there?"

"I'm here."

"What's wrong? You went quiet on me," he said softly. "Sweetheart?" he pressed when she didn't answer straight away.

"Bryan Fisher, right?"

"Right. Do you know the name?"

Another pause, and he could almost see her scowling. "I don't just know the name, Jack. I know _him." _Jack heard movement; a mumbled excuse to the other agents as Chloe slipped out of her seat and moved away from them for privacy. Frowning with worry, Jack nodded towards the nearest cabin, stepping in front of Maria in order to hold the door open for her. "Chloe, you still there?" he asked.

"Yeah... Jack? I don't know how relevant this is but... years ago, just before I joined CTU, I used to date Fisher."


End file.
